The Heart of the Challenge
by scattersoflight
Summary: In which Ron sticks his big feet into his even bigger mouth, somehow prompting the reunion of Harry and Ginny. Go figure it would happen that way.
1. Ron's Gauntlet

**The Heart of the Challenge**

_**Part One – Ron's Gauntlet**_

Looking around at the lush grass of the clearing he stood in, not even the still bright sunlight filtering through the trees is enough to brighten the mood of one Harry James Potter. Of course, not even the fact that the clearing he currently stood in is property of the Weasleys, his favorite people _ever_, and that the Burrow, their home, was only thirty meters away, was brightening much for him. He wasn't unhappy, per se, to be there, but in some ways these Sunday dinners (which were nearly all day affairs) were too much a reminder of what he did not and could not have for him to truly enjoy them.

Dragging his toe through the dirt, he let out a disgusted sigh. These days he wasn't sure where his disgust is mainly directed: himself, Voldemort, and even Dumbledore all seem to get their fair share of the blame. Probably most of it was reserved for himself, which was about as disturbing as he could possibly imagine. But such was his life, this disgusting cesspool of a hole that he dug for himself. And now he was stuck living without the only person he has ever loved.

The fact that she was there, at the Burrow, or would be soon, was both wonderful and awful, a dichotomy he is admittedly unequipped to deal with. The positives of seeing Ginny usually outweighed the negatives easily enough, particularly when he got to touch her or smell her perfume and - oh, bloody hell! He rolled his eyes, wondering if he was becoming a borderline stalker.

He had tried what must easily be a thousand times to work up the nerve to ask her out again, but after skipping town post-defeat of Voldemort, that hadn't worked out particularly well for him. His cowardice was quickly becoming something of a legend, at least in his own mind. If he was to be re-sorted today, Gryffindor would likely not be a possibility. It didn't seem fair to him, but things are what he had made them. Now that they are friends and nothing more, there was no one to blame but himself.

With that unpleasant thought, he began to make his way up to the house, not for the first time wondering how different he would feel about these Sundays if Ginny was beside him. _With_ him. Shaking his head, he mentally scolded himself for those foolish thoughts. Gin was not his, and there didn't seem to be much chance that that would reverse any time soon. The one, last source of comfort he had to cling to was that she was not attached to another man, and that she hasn't been since him. That would surely be the bitterest pill of all to swallow.

Pasting on a smile as he stepped out of the clearing, he faltered at the sight that greeted him: a soaking wet and very, very angry Ginevra Molly Weasley. Oh, _bloody_ hell, a wet and angry and thoroughly arousing Ginevra Molly Weasley. Damn it, damn it, damn it all! His miserable, perverted mind did not need added fuel to the fire today. A dry, soft, and not angry Ginny was generally torture enough on his libido; this was worse than Voldemort. Well, in a vastly different way, but still!

Trying (probably too hard) to look friendly as opposed to gaping and lecherous and perverted, he helped her out by casting a quick drying spell on her as soon as he registered (how, he does not know) that she is wandless. "Looked like you could use that," he said softly, his voice embarrassingly husky. "Which one of the 'gits' is torturing you this time, then?"

"Thank you, Harry!" Ginny exclaims in relief, easily throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. As he awkwardly pats her back, he gritted his teeth with the effort to keep his hands in appropriate places. He shouldn't let himself be this irritated with how over him she was that this kind of contact is easy for her, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

"Hey Gin," he greeted, almost moaning out loud with loss when she dropped her arms and stepped back. "How are you?"

Taking his arm, she pulled him towards the house, flashing him a brilliant smile. "Aside from your best friend being a git, I'm just fine," she told him. "And how are you?"

Relaxing a little, Harry smiled back at her. "I thought Hermione was still on 'holiday' in America," he retorted cheekily, earning a finger to the ribs. "Ow! Ginevra Molly Weasley, that hurt!"

"You asked for it," she shrugged unapologetically. "Besides, if you people keep humoring her and calling it a 'holiday', I just might scream!"

He wrinkled his nose at that, laughing a little. At her raised eyebrow, he just shrugged. "I've heard you scream, Gin. It's not…erm, pleasant."

"Harry Potter, are you teasing me? Of all the things," she giggled, shaking her head as they approach the house. "Well, cover your ears if you want to avoid the unpleasantness. Ron is about to hear it from me."

"Not quite right, sis," George smirked as they walk up the steps of the rickety porch. "Ronnie Pooh is hiding rather adeptly behind Mum's skirt right now. And she's holding le bebe."

Ginny growled her displeasure, glaring at George and Harry as though it is their faults that Ron is childish enough to use their tiny nephew as a guard. "Well, go figure," she muttered, her hands on her hips drawing Harry's eyes to portions of her anatomy that they have no business being. "Well, I'll get him back. He had better count on that."

George winked at Harry before looking back at his sister. "If I can be of service, do let me know, darling sister. I do so enjoy when ickle Ronnikins gets his, as you well know."

"Hadn't noticed," Harry grinned in return, a warm feeling spreading through him when Ginny giggled and bumped shoulders with him. "C'mon then. Where's your far better half, George? I'd have thought someone would be around, keeping you in line."

"Good luck with that," Ginny snorted. "Now, in all fairness, Katie is far more successful at it than anyone, but honestly, George? In line? Good one, Har!"

'_Har_'? She did not just refer to him as…'Har'! God, they really were friends now, weren't they? They were friends, and there wasn't any easy way out of that, not so far as he could see. Great, terrific. Friends. They were in the damn friends zone.

"You okay?" Ginny asked, peering at him with concern. "Harry? Are you okay? You sort of zoned out there for a minute."

He nodded wanly, feeling like a pathetic little boy. "Erm, yeah, just fine, thanks." Sighing, he gave her a weak smile. "So, how's work?" he asked as George hurried into the house as Katie called for him. "That bloody boss of yours isn't giving you too much trouble, is he? And you haven't run into Malfoy again, right?"

Glancing around, Ginny motioned him closer. "If I tell you something, will you promise me you won't say a word to anyone? Especially to any of my brothers, Ron in particular?"

Frowning, Harry worked out that this is not a promise he should be making, but before he could decline, her close proximity got to him, tantalizing his senses. Next thing he knew, he was nodding – he could not refuse her anything. "Of course, Gin. Anything you need." Ugh, he even sounded like _such_ a moronic sap; apparently it was not enough to just be one.

Her eyes darted around shiftily again, and to his surprise, she very effectively cast a _Muffliato_ on them after checking around for extendable ears. His apprehension of what he's about to hear increases with her diligent insistence on privacy. "He asked me out on a date, Harry." Forgetting what they'd just been talking about, the only part that sunk in is the part where someone – _any_one! – asked her out like they have that right!

"What?" he snapped as she stared up at him expectantly.

Hurt filled her eyes, and he instantly felt guilt seep in. "Sorry for telling you then," she muttered quietly, holding herself stiffly as she moved away from him to sit on the porch railing. "I guess you are more over your school feud with Malfoy than I'd have figured."

"Mal – Malfoy?" Harry sputtered in confusion. "What the bloody hell does Malfoy have to do with anything?" Understanding dawned slowly but surely for the intrepid (sometimes that worked out a bit better for him than others) hero, and Harry felt himself fill with rage. "Draco Malfoy asked you out on a date? Who the bloody hell does he think he is?"

"Well, that's who we were talking about," she shrugged, looking so forlorn that Harry almost pulled her to him. If he were to do that, it would end in disaster when she went to move away and he wouldn't let her go.

He settled for putting a hand on her shoulder, probably squeezing a little more forcefully than necessary. "I thought you meant your boss," he admitted lamely. "Did he hurt you? Is he pressuring you or threatening you? I swear to Godric, Gin, if that rat bastard hurts you in any way, I'll make the final battle look like Quidditch match!"

She stared at him for a moment, a familiar hard, blazing look in her eyes. For one moment, one all too brief, glorious moment, he thought that she just might kiss him. Of course, no such thing happened; his luck had never been _that_ good. "He asked me out; he didn't put me under the _Cruciatus_, Harry." Sighing, she shook her head. "Of course, a date with him might feel similarly torturous."

They shared a grin at that, and Harry moved to hop up so he was sitting next to her on the railing. "I never knew Malfoy fancied you."

"Neither did I," Ginny giggled, leaning against his arm. "He acted as though I should be flattered that he'd deign to ask me out. He is even more of a pompous arse than Percy, and you know how he is."

"Too true," Harry agreed with a smile he knew he'd only ever bestowed on her. "I take it you turned him down then?"

"Oh, no," she contradicted him quickly. "I accepted, of course. We're going out tomorrow night. I figured if I could survive the _Cruciatus_ curse from that bitch aunt of his, then surely I could suffer through one date with him. He's the least scary in that family, anyway."

Choking on his tongue (and horror and outrage), Harry hopped off the railing. "Are you insane? I cannot believe you, Ginevra Weasley! After all that Malfoy and his family have done to you and yours, you would go out with him? My word, it's like – like you're suddenly unrecognizable."

Staring calmly at him from her perch on the porch rail, she noted, "And you. After all he's done, especially to you, I wouldn't go out with him if he were the only man left on earth. I'd sooner go to Azkaban for his murder than suffer through half a date with that moronic arse!"

Visibly relaxing, Harry felt nearly boneless in his relief. Of course, the relief warred with the embarrassment of having fallen for Gin's little joke, but the relief was the predominant feeling of the moment. "Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "I should've known better."

"Yes," she agreed blithely, arching a brow at him, "You should have known _me_ better by now. I actually rather thought you did."

With that, she slid off the railing, removing the privacy spells she had cast on them and the porch. Before he could do or say anything to fix his blunder, she was in the house and he was left alone trying to figure out what just happened. Apparently, not only did he blow his chance at having her as a girlfriend, or better yet wife, now it seems he was on the verge of losing her as his friend. Terrific.

Shaking his head, he muttered, "Damn it. Such an idiot, Potter!"

And with that self-indictment and summation of the last couple of years of his life, he turned and followed her into the house, again on his own.

~*~

"Arthur! Oh, honestly, put that thing away!" Molly Weasley huffed in exasperation, glaring at the Muggle CD player her husband is currently enamored of. "I swear, would it be possible to have just one meal in peace?"

"Aw, Mum, don't be so fussed about it," Bill grinned, winking at his wife of several years now. "You know better than to expect peace of any sort from this lot." At that, he threw significant looks at George, Ginny, and Ron. "Don't set your hopes too high, right?"

Ron looked over at Harry, rolling his eyes as Ginny reached out, tugging on a lock of the hair Bill still kept stubbornly long. "Like you're so perfect," she teased her oldest brother, causing Harry's stomach to clench at the sight of her face coming alive with amusement.

Before Bill could retort or anyone else can jump into the fray, Arthur jumped in. "I think it is fairly safe to say that none of us are perfect, excluding your mother."

Harry watched as every one of them at the table softened at the love and affection between their parents and in-laws. To Harry, it was something he still wasn't entirely used to, this kind of love always shared and felt at Weasley gatherings. Yes, he knew that some of it was directed his way, but…it wasn't enough. He couldn't help but want more. That the person he wanted more from was sitting across the table from him now did nothing to help.

"Harry, son," Arthur said over the noisy din of the table, snapping Harry out of his reverie, "How is work? Kingsley has mentioned how close you are to tracking down one of the cases deemed unsolvable. He says you are making great progress."

Swallowing hastily, Harry nodded his confirmation. "Yup. We've actually got a fairly confirmed lead on the Nott family. In fact, we might be sending a raid team to their supposed location early this week."

Percy cut in at that. "Well, good to hear. Always a relief to the Ministry to get these dangerous criminals off our streets! Well, then, are you going to be heading the raid team this time?"

"Probably," Harry nodded, failing to notice how Ginny's fingers tighten on her fork turning her knuckles white. "This is definitely my case, and it wouldn't be right to let someone else lead a team in there."

"My team would be fine going in," Ron interrupted. "In fact, I daresay you ought to let us take this one. Your guys aren't all that rested from that botched raid last month."

Rolling his eyes at his best friend, Harry shook his head as he gave him an indulgent smile. "Sorry, mate; my boys have got this one. Besides, Hermione threatened, erm, things I'd rather not part with if I let you out on another mission like that."

Huffing a loud breath out in irritation, Ron glared at his best friend. "It's just not fair," he griped, banging a fist on the table for emphasis which earned him a sharp glare from his mother. "I get penalized just because I have a fiancé! What kind of rubbish is that?"

"Yeah, life is so hard," Harry shot back. "You have a fiancé; poor, ickle Ronnikins."

_That_ earned Harry several pairs of raised eyebrows, including Ginny's. Ron, of course, was oblivious to his best friend's sarcastic and slightly (well, perhaps more than slightly) bitter undertone.

"See, there's a simple solution to all our problems, though," Ron continued on, blithely unaware of the tension certain others at the dinner table were now feeling. "You could find yourself a girl. Honestly mate, I think that would solve a lot of your problems."

"Could you at least swallow before doling out your advice next time?" Ginny snit testily at her brother. "It's a wonder you have a woman who puts up with you, the way you act."

"Children," Arthur interrupted mildly before his wife could cut in more sharply.

Bill and George exchanged knowing looks as their significant others tried to hide their smiles. "I'm just saying!" Ron continued on, glaring at Ginny. "If you'd find yourself a fiancé, Harry, then we'd be back on even ground again! Well, as even as ground gets when your best friend is the Boy Who Lived, yeah?"

Everyone else grew quiet, with most of the eyes around the table darting between the two best friends. Two pairs of eyes, however, remained riveted on Ginny, gauging her reactions to the conversation. Her mother, she was to be expected. In some ways, ways that frightened Ginny each and every day, her mother knew her extraordinarily well. Oddly enough, the other was Fleur.

"Ronald, just leave it," Ginny sighed in exasperation, Fleur studying the white knuckles of Ginny's hand clenching her goblet too tightly.

"And you, Gin!" Ron laughed, not heeding the warning looks being shot his way from the rest of his family. "You're just as bloody bad as Harry is! Honestly, you two should have one of those…oh, bloody hell – sorry, Mum – you should have one of those pact things!" He frowned, thinking for a minute before breaking out into a huge grin. "Yeah, I saw it on Hermione's telly! A Muggle pact."

All eyes on him are wide and slightly confused, and it is George who broke the silence. "What in the name of Dumbledore's crazy blabbering are you on about?"

Ron grinned, as pleased with himself as everyone else is uncomfortable. "A marriage pact! I think Harry and Ginny should have a pact that they're both still single when Gin turns twenty-five, they marry each other!"

It was a thoroughly horrified silence that greets that suggestion. Arthur's eyes squeezed tightly closed, and his head shook as though he cannot believe what he has just heard. Molly's face turned mottled shades of red and purple, and her mouth opened and closed furiously although no words come out. George and Bill glanced at each other, neither knowing what to do or say. Katie watched in fascination, and Fleur rather calmly waited the scene out.

"I can't believe you'd say that," Harry said quietly, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Ginny now, not even able to muster a reassuring smile for her.

"Right," Ginny agreed, pushing away from the table. All the blood had drained out of her face, leaving her alarmingly pale, although Fleur was the only who really notices. "I can find my own boyfriend, fiancé, husband, and even friends, Ronald. Someone who would want me, alright?"

Ron rolled his eyes, taking another bite of his mum's treacle tart. "If that were true, why haven't you dated anyone since…well, it's been a right long time, Gin! If it's so easy, why don't you ever date anyone?" he challenged her.

"Ron, that's enough," Bill interrupted tersely. "Leave her alone. Leave them both alone. And do yourself a favor; shut up before Hermione comes home to find you the subject of spell damage that leaves your manhood under question."

"Well, I don't see what the problem is!" Ron exclaimed, pressing on and ignoring the resulting groans from the other people at the table. "Someone needs to say it! It's not like Ginny has dated anyone since Harry, after all. What's the big deal?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly exclaimed, her chair knocked backwards by force as she jumps to her feet. "Apologize this instant! And go to your room!"

Ron's mouth fell open and he gaped at his mum incredulously. "But Mum, I don't even live here! You can't send me up to my room!"

If anything, Molly's face just turns redder with the purple splotches darkening noticeably. "I will not have you behaving like this in my house!" she yelled, banishing her youngest son's dessert. "Of all the disrespectful, outrageous, _rude_…"

"No, Mum," Ginny interrupted, her face a calm mask hiding any real feelings she might have on the goings-on of this dinner, "He's right. I haven't dated in awhile." She stood up, dropping her napkin on her plate. "He's right in that that needs to change. But before he goes and forces unwilling and/or disinterested wizards on me, I will find my own…own fiancé."

Harry's fists clenched angrily under the table; his ire was directed at himself for giving Ginny the impression that he was neither interested nor willing, but mainly at Ron in this moment, for pushing Ginny to stand up and proclaim her intention of finding a fiancé. A fiancé that wasn't him. Besides, what happened to the Ronald Weasley who couldn't stand the idea of his little sister with any bloke? Now he's pushing her to this? Harry would kill him. Absolutely, positively murder the prat the first chance he got.

Ginny's hands were shaking as she stares at Ron. "Well, thanks, Ron. Would you like to set a time limit? Should I have met this phantom man by some certain date?"

"Really, Ginevra, there's no need – " Molly began crossly, still glaring at Ron, who had the gall to interrupt her.

"George's wedding," Ron grinned smugly. "That'll give you enough time, right? Don't you think so, Harry?"

Sputtering incoherently, Harry shook his head. "No, no! This – it is not a good idea. And – and this isn't like you, either!" he proclaimed, looking wildly at the other members of the table, hoping for back-up. "What are you up to, pushing Ginny towards just any old bloke?"

"Stop," Ginny cut in, looking sharply at Harry. "Just stop. I can defend myself. And Ron, George's wedding. I can do that."

With that, she turned and left the room. A door slammed loudly a moment later, letting everyone know she had left the house. It was Fleur who stopped the stare-off between the remainder of the diners. "Perhaps I shall go check on her," she said softly, in her still accented English. "And point out that taking the advice of zee brother who only has a fiancée of his own by default would be silly."

Ron's mouth worked furiously (more so than his brain) as he tried to process that insult, and Molly looked to protest for a moment and insisted on going herself, but Fleur's words sunk in and she smiles. "Yes, dear, you should go. That would be a very sweet thing of you to do. I am sure we'd all appreciate it."

Fleur squeezed Bill's hand, giving him a small smile to let him know that things would be alright. The look she turned on Ron (very scary Veela) had him squirming uncomfortably in his seat. When she got to the kitchen door, she turned and leveled one more scathing look on Ron before flouncing out after Ginny.

"Ginny," she called, heading through the trees toward the pond where she expected her young sister-in-law to have gone, "I know you are there!"

"Yes, I am," Ginny responded quietly, startling Fleur as she stepped out from behind a tree. "Drawn the short wand, have you?"

"Non," Fleur denied, standing next to her young sister-in-law, "I asked if I could be zee one to come. Your muzzer only agreed because I promised I would remind you that Ronald ees not zee best person to draw advice from. Not even zee best of your bruzzers."

Ginny gave her a small smile. "That would be Bill, then, I suppose?"

Fleur grinned widely, disagreeing again. "Non, I should say Charlie would be zee best. Unfortunately, he ees not here. But I am, and I would like to help you if I can."

"I don't know if you can," Ginny sighed, giving Fleur a rueful smile. "I don't know if anyone can." She shook her head, her long, red hair whipping around her. "I'm such a fool! Honestly, letting Ronald goad me like that. I normally hex him rather than agreeing to something so ridiculous."

"You do not 'ave to do anything, Ginny," Fleur pointed out rightly. "Especially nothing that your bruzzer has goaded you into. That ees not right."

Nodding, Ginny stared absently out at the pond. "He – he just had to do it in front of Harry, didn't he?" she asked, a slight waver in her voice. "Of all the people he'd have to have around to call out my non-existent dating life, it had to be Harry. Did you see the look on his face? He looked so horrified at the suggestion, and – and I just can't take it. I cannot take Harry looking at me like that."

Feeling a little choked up, Fleur grabbed the younger girl's hands. "I do not know what happened with you and 'Arry, but he ees a fool. However, Ginny, I do not think he ees as…'orrified as you seem to think."

Ginny shrugged, giving her a wry smile. "It doesn't matter, though, does it? Harry has made it more than clear that he doesn't want me, and let's face it. There isn't much I can do with that. He left. I – I got that, Fleur, I really did. If I'd had to do the things he did, I'd have wanted to get the hell out of here, too. But when he came back, he didn't – it wasn't – it was all over. Everything was over."

"Not everything," Fleur countered softly. "Eet ees not over for you and 'Arry, Ginny. Zee way he looks at you…non, eet ees not over."

"No, it is," Ginny stated firmly, nodding her head for emphasis. "He chose…I don't know what he chose, but it was not me. He didn't choose me. I have to admit that and face it, and move on from it. Ron, well, he's a right prat, but he wasn't wrong. I have to move on."

"And finding an 'usband in two months is a good way to do thees?" Fleur asked skeptically, arching a delicate brow. "You should talk to 'Arry. He might just surprise you."

Ginny shook her head, a sad, wistful smile playing about her lips. "That's not an option anymore," she admitted softly. "I – I won't be humiliated like that again. Half my life has been spent in unrequited love with Harry Potter. No more. I just can't do it anymore." Taking a deep breath, she let it out shakily. "George's wedding is in a month. I have to do this, if only to prove to myself that I can. I can always dump the bloke the day after the wedding, right?"

Fleur didn't know what to say to that, so she settled for squeezing Ginny's hand and saying a quick prayer that this didn't end in heartbreak again for the young girl next to her. She didn't think any of them could bear that.


	2. Luna's Lunchtime Advice

_**Part Two – Luna's Lacking Advice**_

Harry's mood was foul on Monday morning, even for him. As he stormed through the main entrance of the Ministry ignoring the greetings of other employees, people jumped out of his way. It did not take a second glance to confirm that the Boy Who Lived was indeed in a terrible mood. Truth be told, no one was going to risk a second glance.

By the time he made it to the Auror training rooms, he'd managed to work himself into a far greater anger than he could ever remember, except what he'd felt seeing Bellatrix Lestrange holding Ginny under the _Cruciatus_ curse at the Final Battle. This was somehow worse; it's not like he could go after Ron the same way he went after Bellatrix, after all.

A slightly malicious smile crossed his face as he realized exactly how he can work out his anger on his friend. There was a training demonstration scheduled this morning, and while Harry wasn't on tap to participate, Ron was. It would be easy enough to talk Ron's scheduled partner into switching with him, and Harry was sure that Raonall, their supervisor, would come around easy enough. Then he would work out all of his frustrations with Ron _on_ Ron.

Not that Ron seemed to be picking up on it. After Fleur had chased after Ginny, Ron had swiped Ginny's dessert and dug in with the kind of gusto only he can generally manage as though he had nary a care in the world. Of course, Harry would have to suppose, Ron did _not_ have a care in the world. He got his girl, and he probably thought that qualified him to give advice to the poor, unfortunate single folk of the world.

Bad, horrible advice, but advice nevertheless. "Not when the advice pushes me and Gin even farther apart," Harry muttered to himself, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He had wanted to wipe the too smug and self-satisfied look off of his best friend's face, but respect for Molly and Arthur had held him back.

He sought out the Auror scheduled in the demonstration, and talked (well, perhaps threatened is more apropos) him into letting Harry take his place. Harry found Raonall next, giving him a nearly completely fabricated story about pranks gone bad; the only true part of the story was an admission of the desire to seek revenge. Raonall agreed readily, prompting Harry to feel a bit bad; there was no way this would turn out as fun and lighthearted as his supervisor was being led to believe it would.

By the time that Ron arrived, Harry had managed to seethe his way through all the paperwork awaiting him on his desk and scared the hell out of a couple of first year recruits. A small price to pay for building his rage back up to a level Ron would (hopefully) understand when he easily kicked his unsuspecting arse.

"'Lo, Harry," Ron greeted him around a mouthful of food. "Want to grab a bite for lunch later? George was telling me about a new Muggle restaurant just a few blocks away from the Diagon Alley entrance."

"Sure," Harry agreed with forced amicability, picturing Ron sucking his liquefied fish and chips through a straw. "Oh, hey, I'll be demonstrating with you today. Traded with O'Quinn."

Ron's eyes widened in surprise, and he choked a little on whatever he is eating. "Y-you're who I'm up against today? Blimey, Harry, give a bloke some warning next time! He won't show up." That last part was said under his breath so Harry couldn't hear him. "Well, it'll be good to have a challenge for a change."

Harry nodded noncommittally, fighting the urge to yell at Ron, or worse, ask if he'd heard anything about Ginny's newfound husband hunt, caused by Ron. Oy, Harry was _really_ not sure he'd ever be able to forgive Ron if he lost Ginny forever because of this. '_She isn't yours to lose,"_ the cruel voice inside his head reminded him. '_You did a bang-up job making sure of that_!'

Before either of them can say much more, Raonall was calling for everyone to congregate in the training room. With a hard look at Ron, Harry turned and stalked down the hall. Ron followed after his best friend, his brow furrowed as he tried to work out Harry's attitude. When they entered the room one after the other, Raonall announced the change, his voice tinged with excitement.

Once the session is underway, it didn't take long (not nearly long enough, in Harry's humble opinion) before Harry had sufficiently and not so gently dispatched of his opponent. That Ron was his opponent (and now receiving quite a bit of medical attention) did not really weigh on Harry much. As he changed from his combat robes to his regular robes, Ron approached him, an angry glint in his eyes.

"Oy, what's the big idea, mate? That was bloody brutal! It was supposed to be a demonstration, not a battlefield! Voldemort wasn't out there; I don't know what your problem was!"

Harry finished lacing his shoes and straightened up, glaring at Ron. "You know what it was, Ron?" Harry spat out grumpily. "It's not that you can't go on missions because Hermione gets upset by them; it's that you shouldn't go on missions because of debacles like that."

Ron's face flushed bright pink in a mix of embarrassment and anger, but before he could retort, Raonall was there, shoving them apart. "What's all this then?" he hissed, all traces of his usual good humor replaced by professionalism and irritation. When neither of them answered him, he let out an angry puff of breath. "Well, someone had better have something to say!"

"It's nothing," Ron bit out tersely. "Just Potter here, and his huge head that is only eclipsed by his huge ego." He glared at Harry for a moment, more than willing to share his anger. "I'm out of here."

Harry and Raonall watched him stomp off, each frowning for entirely different reasons. "Next time you want to be a complete berk about humiliating your best friend, may I suggest you leave it somewhere outside of work," Raonall ground out angrily. "Honestly, Harry, when you suggested the switch, you did not represent it like this at all! What has got your bloody knickers in a twist this time?"

Finally wrenching his gaze away from the door, Harry looked over at Raonall and sighed. As Raonall knew all of the Weasleys well and Harry's history with them, it was easy enough to explain. "Ron can be such a prat sometimes," he frowned, his anger not even beginning to lessen. "At the Weasley dinner yesterday, he tried – well, he made fun of both Gin and I for being single, and then he went so far as to suggest we make a pact."

"A pact?" Raonall echoed in confusion. "What kind of pact?"

"The kind that – that – well, the gist of it is if neither Ginny nor I were married by the time she turns twenty-five, we marry each other. Can you believe that?"

Groaning, Raonall rubbed a hand over his eyes tiredly. "Oh, poor girl," he sighed, not noticing Harry bristle over where the sympathy was directed. "She must've been so – well, anyway. Next time you need to beat the stuffing out of Ronald Weasley, do it somewhere else."

Shaking his head, Harry sighed. "Yeah, fine, sir. There won't be a next time, though," he related bleakly. "She's going to get married."

"What? Who is getting married?" His eyes widened in imagined comprehension. "Ginny? Ginny is getting married? To who? How? When did this happen?"

"Not yet," Harry cut in, laughing a little in spite of himself, "But because Ron is the biggest idiot the world has ever known, Gin is going to marry…well, someone."

Raonall had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "Well, I imagine that was her plan all along. Harry, you can't blame Ron for something that was always going to happen anyway."

Harry's eyes flashed in irritation. "In a month? She plans on finding a fiancée within the next month, by George and Katie's wedding. That's what Ron pushed her into."

"Well," his supervisor laughed, "Really? Ginny let _Ron_ goad her into that? Oh, she's usually so much cleverer than that. I must say, I am a little disappointed in her."

"You're not worried about her potentially running off with some random bloke?" Harry asked incredulously. "Is no one else worried about this? Who knows what kind of creep she might find, just to stick it to Ron?"

"Oh, Harry," Raonall smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "Ginny won't marry some creeper just to spite Ron. She's far too smart for that. When Ginny Weasley marries, it will be for love and forever." He turned to go, glancing over his shoulder at him. "I'm absolutely sure of that."

As he walked off, Harry dropped down onto a bench. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he whispered to himself in acknowledgement. "Damn it."

~*~

"Hello Harry," the dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood greeted him as he set his tray down at one of the round tables in the Ministry cafeteria. In all honesty, he hadn't noticed anyone sitting at the table, or else he would have sat elsewhere. But he was here now, and it would be rude to leave Luna.

"Luna," he nodded, trying to smile at her.

"Oh, dear," his endearingly odd friend gasped, her protuberant eyes widening further than normal as she peers at him in her unfocused way. "You look poor today. You haven't had a daydream under an umbrella tree in the last forty-eight hours, have you? It is a bad year for Siberian Tiger Moths, and everyone knows they are quite fond of the umbrella tree."

Harry nodded, responding dryly, "And fond of daydreams, too, apparently?"

"Only under the umbrella tree," Luna shrugged, looking around the room, "But once you're infested, they'll infect all aspects of your life. Quite dreadful, you know."

"I'm sure," Harry agreed, a bit at a loss as he always was when Luna was around. "Right then. How are you, Luna? Erm, are you here to meet someone for lunch?"

She smiled widely, shaking her head. "Oh, no. I'm here looking for a story."

Harry frowned, his eyes scanning over the other people dining in the cafeteria. "You're looking to do a story on someone here? Anyone in particular?"

"Oh, no," Luna corrected. "I am looking for a story. I had it with me yesterday, but now it seems nowhere to be found. It's rather a conundrum." She shook her head, focusing vaguely on Harry. "Your daydreams were of Ginny, were they not?"

Startled not only at the abrupt leap in topics but by the mention of Ginny, Harry looked up, his sharp gaze meeting her…less so gaze. "Ginny? Why would you say that?"

Luna continued to gaze around the room. "I think I'm quite close to capturing an elusive crumple-horned snorkack," she mused. "My father will really be so proud."

"Erm, right," Harry nodded, staring at her as she calmly surveyed the room in that sort of vacant way that made him wonder if she was actually _seeing_ anything. "Luna," he began again hesitantly, "Why would you think I'm upset over Ginny?"

She gave him a serene yet knowing smile. "Well, because you love her, of course. The whole thing is rather like the mating habits of the South American Ice Snapdragons. For a plant, they are rather timid about going after what they want. You and Ginny love each other, but you're both willing to set your feelings aside. Fascinating."

Despite the source, a pang of hope struck in Harry's chest at the idea of Ginny still (or for the first time) loving him. "Do you really think…?" he trailed off, unable to put voice to the question.

"Oh, yes, absolutely," Luna nodded emphatically, her eyes drifting upwards – was she looking at the ceiling? – before continuing. "You are very much like the Ice Snapdragon, far more so than Ginevra is. She has probably given up on you again, and is therefore unable to see how much you love her."

Must she keep comparing him to her odd Quibbler flowers? At least it had 'dragon' as part of the name, he supposed. Shaking those thoughts away, he gave voice to his other predominant concern of the moment. "You think Ginny loves me?" he asked slowly, disbelievingly. "You realize that she has not given a single hint of that since – since – "

"Yes, since before you ran away," Luna agreed shrewdly, either ignoring or more likely not noticing the way Harry bristled at her frank assessment. "Well, you have had a couple of years now to tell her how you feel. Why have you kept quiet, Harry?"

Avoiding the question, he asked, "Well, if she's so in love with me, why hasn't she said anything? She knows where I am, if she cared enough to tell me."

Luna looked at him, _really_ looked at him, and frowned. "She waited for you, since that first second after you left her at Professor Dumbledore's funeral. She never said she was waiting for you, but everyone knew. Then it was all over, and you left again – without her."

"_Without_ – she wanted to go with me?"

"She wants to be with you," Luna corrected him, her eyes drifting back out of focus. "That was all she ever wanted, you know. But she understood why you wanted to be alone. Then you came back and – "

Harry interrupted her tiredly. "And then I barely acknowledged her, and now she most likely wants nothing to do with me. No wonder she let Ron goad her into…well, anyway, I've lost my chance with her, and I know it."

Luna's dreamy eyes shifted to rest on his face. "I suppose you are right, in a way. Ginevra wouldn't believe you now. Far too much time has passed for that. However, I do believe you could show her that you still love her."

"What's the difference?" he asked her, frowning down at his lunch.

"Oh, the difference is quite vast," Luna assured him, smiling at something over his shoulder. He did not care to turn and look. She continued, "Anyone can just say words, Harry. Therefore, when words no longer have meaning, you have to let your actions speak for you."

Luna tipped back in her chair far enough that Harry found it a wonder that she didn't spill over. Shaking that thought away, he pitifully had to ask, "What am I supposed to do? I'm sort of rubbish at this time of thing, Luna."

She serenely nodded her agreement. "Yes, I have noticed that you aren't very good at dealing with your emotions," she understated, sitting forward in her chair. "It's probably because you grew up as an orphan. I think that must be very hard."

Well, that was an unnecessary bit of commentary on Luna's part, at least in Harry's view. He liked this lunch better when Luna was telling him how much Ginny loved him. Things were deteriorating rapidly.

"How do I show her?" Harry asked wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Honestly, at this point, he wouldn't have been surprised if she told him to rent a herd of hippogriffs and skywrite a marriage proposal.

"This is a little out of my realm of experience," Luna admitted candidly, "But I should think that I would touch her a lot, flirt with her. I'd want to kiss her cheek and tell her she smells good." She paused, giggling delightedly. "She'd probably expect that behavior more from me than you at this point in time."

Harry shifted in his seat a little awkwardly, trying to get _those_ images out of his head. "Erm, Luna. You think I should flirt? I can't flirt," he told her, mentally willing away the dull headache starting to pound behind his eyes. "I am definitely not equipped for that."

Luna eyed him thoughtfully, fiddling with the radishes dangling from her ears. "Yes, I think you can. If you want it badly enough, then you'll need to. You could try getting close to her; touch her, act as you did when you were dating. Bring her dinner."

Frowning, Harry turned his gaze toward a window. "I don't know if I can do those things. What if it isn't what she wants or needs? What if she hates me and wants me to leave her alone?" He blanched as a thought occurred to him. "What if she gets hacked off at me? What if this would be the last thing she'd ever want?"

"Then your nose will probably hurt for a few days after she hits you with the bat bogey hex," Luna suggested dreamily, "And Harry, it is what she wants. She just believes she can't have it. She think she can't have _you_, Harry." Gathering her things, she moved to stand. "Well, I don't think my story is here, so I really must be going. Good luck, Harry. With Ginny and with the umbrella trees."

Unable to help himself, Harry grinned at that. "Yeah, I'll try. Thanks, Luna. I think."

Luna didn't say anything else; she just gives him a vague smile (in all honesty, he's not positive it was even directed to him specifically) before turning and leaving. On the whole, he imagined this will be the strangest conversation he will have all month presuming he didn't chance upon her again.

Harry wasn't sure what to do with Luna's odd advice. Well, in all fairness, he supposed it wasn't really odd so much as it was personally difficult for him. Flirting, saying things without words? Those were _not_ things that he was good at, and he did not really know where to even begin with the suggestion.

Maybe he should disregard her advice entirely and figure it out for himself. Surely, he could do that.

~*~

It turned out, not even to his own surprise, that he did not come up with anything on his own, other than doing nothing while hoping for the best. To his, well, shock, Luna had managed to give him a lasting feeling of hope, and that was why he now stands, take away in hand, at the door to Ginny's flat.

He had brought the foods he knew to be her favorites from the best restaurant that he knew (it had taken a hefty bribe and a few reminders of his Boy-Who-Lived status, much to his own embarrassment) in hopes that she wouldn't slam the door in his face. Fighting down his nerves, he shifted the bags of food so that he can knock on her door. There was no immediate answer, so he knocked again.

"Hold on a moment!" Ginny's irritated voice called out. "I'm almost there!"

The door swung open, and at least half of Harry's anxieties melted away at the sight of her. "Hey, Gin," he greeted, holding out one of the bags of food. "I thought I'd see if you wanted dinner."

Her eyes are wide with surprise, but to his relief, she smiled shyly and beckoned him inside. "You brought me dinner?" she asked quietly, unable to keep her surprise at the unexpected gesture out of her voice. "That's sweet of you, Harry. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I just wanted to see you," he smiled, feeling about as shy as he had ever felt before. "I know I just saw you yesterday, but I thought – "

"If you're here out of pity because your best friend is a total berk, then just stop right there," she interrupted hotly, irritation marring her pretty features. "It isn't your fault Ron is such an idiot. Please do not feel sorry for me."

He grinned at her, suddenly feeling more at ease after her quick display of temper. "Well, we agree on one thing then," he chuckled. "Ron is an arse."

Smiling and generally looking more at ease, Ginny reached out and relieved him of one of the bags. "That he is," she agreed with a wide smile (just!) for him as she sat the bag down. "Well, what did you bring then? Besides enough for a small army, obviously."

"Take a look," he encouraged her, pleased as can be when she squealed with delight after her first look. She stepped back from the table, turning around to throw her arms around his neck. "I take it you approve then?"

"You have two of my very favorites in the first bag," she grinned, dropping her arms from around him to take a peek into the other bags. "This is really sweet of you, Harry. I really appreciate it."

"I'm glad you like it," he beamed in return, feeling a little foolish that her praise had such an effect on him. He was too focused on the sway of her hips as she bustled around her tiny kitchen, so it startled him when she tried to hand him a plate and fork. "Erm, thanks."

She smiled at him, moving to sit at the table. "You're the one deserving of thanks, Harry. This is such a nice surprise. My mother will be happy, since I'd begged off dinner at the Burrow to have leftover salad here."

He chuckled at that, imagining Molly Weasley's hand-wringing upon being turned down for dinner by her youngest child in favor of leftover salad. "Well, I'm glad that the surprise is nice. I don't know if everyone in the world would be pleased to have me show up on the doorstep, even with food."

"You'd be surprised," she snorted indelicately, laughing with him. "Well, as Ron so kindly pointed out, if anyone can sympathize with the woes of cooking for one, it is probably you. It's just not fun, so I try not to do it very often. Hence leftover salad."

"Eat a lot of carryout, too?" Harry asked, easily falling into a comfort zone with her as she passed him a full plate.

"Mmm, not too often," she shrugged. "George and I used to eat together a lot, especially after I first moved out. It was nice since I think both of us were so lonely. George was so lost then, and I was always so close to the twins. But you know how it was then, and – "

Startling them both, he slammed his fist down on his thigh. "No, I don't know," he muttered bitterly, taking them both by surprise. "Like a good coward, I ran away. I didn't see his suffering or your loneliness because I was too busy being a selfish bastard."

She watched as his chin dropped to his chest, his shoulders hunching up in his grief. "Harry," she began, reaching out to take his hand. "Oh, Harry, I daresay you were entitled to a vacation. There was nothing selfish or bastard-like in that. You have given all of us new, better lives, and if you needed some time to get settled after that, you had more than earned it."

"I didn't even go to his funeral, though," he pointed out miserably, cautiously lifting his chin to meet her gaze. "Your family, you all mean so much to me, and I – "

When she set her hand on top of his, he immediately turned his palm up to clasp around hers. "Harry, there was not one person at that funeral who begrudged you your time away. Not a single one," she promised fiercely.

He looked at her, managing a small smile. "Thanks for that. You and your family have always been so much better to me than I deserve. And I am sorry I missed it. At the time, I couldn't stand the thought of his funeral, but now I really regret that I missed it."

"You did miss one hell of an amazing fireworks show," she smiled, squeezing his hand once before gently pulling hers back. "Fred would have been proud. Did you know that Percy was the one who arranged it? Bill and Charlie had suggested it when the boys were drowning their sorrows in firewhiskey, and Perce was the only one who remembered. So he did it."

"I'm sorry I missed that," Harry smiled genuinely this time. "Good on Percy, too. What was your contribution?" he asked, figuring her for something truly extraordinary.

She blushed, looking down at the table. "Actually, I was pretty much rubbish at helping. I was sort of in charge of George, mostly by default at that."

He could picture how she must've been then, feeling alone and utterly devastated by Fred's death and George's depression. It just made him feel worse that he'd been gone then. "I am sorry I wasn't there. For you, I mean. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

She stared back at him impassively, nodding once. "I wish you wouldn't, though. I'm not your responsibility, Harry. None of us are. You needed the time and space, and that is okay. We all wanted the best for you."

"Well, it's not that," he began, cutting himself off as the nonsense that Luna had spouted about words with lost meaning rushed back into his awareness. Maybe, just maybe, his loony friend was right. To test that theory, he reached out and took her hand in his. He laced their fingers together (and nearly went wild with relief and joy when she did not jerk her hand away), and gave her his best smile.

The pink tint that rushed to her cheeks told him pretty much all that he needed to know. Luna was right, no matter how odd and incongruous that seemed. Clearing his throat, he stroked the tips of his fingers over the bank of her soft hand. "I wish I had been here for you. I – I will always regret that I wasn't."

Ginny gave him a small smile, but her eyes were searching as she looked at him. "Please Harry. Don't worry about it. You were here with us in spirit and in our hearts."

"Thank you," he smiled, nudging her plate toward her. "Eat up, Gin. The food won't get any warmer, you know."

"Well, it won't get any colder either," she shrugged, laughing at his confused look. "Warming charms. Just how hopeless in the kitchen are you?"

"I'm a terrific cook, the Muggle way," he informed her with an easy smile. "I had many years of practice at the Dursleys. Still, it's just not any fun cooking for one."

Her eyes hardened at the mention of the Dursleys, but to his relief, she let it go. "Well, since you eat alone and I eat alone, and neither of us likes to eat alone, maybe we should eat together sometimes. You could show me how to cook the Muggle way, and then I could show off for Dad."

She suggested that they share meals? She wanted to eat with him! Trying to play it cool, he nodded as he laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'd really like that, Gin. A lot."

"Well, good," she nodded.

After that exchange, they fell into conversation about any topic imaginable, and before Harry realized it, it was nearly ten pm. When they said goodbye, he surprised them both by kissing her on the cheek. As he shoved his hands into his pockets sheepishly, she reacted as though she'd been burned, jumping away from him and blushing furiously.

Luna was right, he realized again as she hastily bid him goodbye and shut the door. Maybe, just maybe, this would not be so hard as he imagined it would be.


	3. George's Surprise

**Part Three – **_**George's Surprise**_

"This is insanity," Ginny Weasley muttered to herself as she caught the gaze of one Harry James Potter on her for at least the eighth or ninth time that evening. Every time it happened, she suffered the compulsion to check herself in the mirror and verify that there was nothing on her face. Harry hadn't looked so often or so blatantly at her since their brief dating stint near the end of her fifth year. Hermione told a different story, one where Harry never stopped looking at her, but as she had never seen evidence of that, it was easy for Ginny to disbelieve.

If only Hermione were there now, then she'd at least have someone to vent to about this situation she had found herself in. But no, she'd gone and accepted Ron's impossible, no-win challenge, and she honestly hadn't a clue as to how to get herself out of it. And if she couldn't get out if without backing down, then what was she going to do?

She just refused to let Ron make a fool out of her in this, but frankly she wasn't sure that there was any way to avoid that now. Godric, she had dug a deep one for herself this time. Sighing, she gathered up her purse and just refreshed glass of champagne and headed for the patio to get some fresh air. It was startlingly quieter out there, but considering the party that was raging inside had been primarily planned by George and herself, that was not surprising.

Unfortunately, for her at least, the party hadn't even started yet. George had planned it as a surprise engagement party for Katie, who wasn't expected for a bit more yet. It was definitely going to be a long night, especially if she kept catching those indiscernible looks from Harry.

All of a sudden, he was paying an awful lot of extra attention to her, and she did not know what to make of it. Her best guess, or at least the initial one, was that he felt guilty about Ronald's remarks for some bizarre, Harry-like reason. Goodness knows that it would not have been the first time he took the weight of something undeserved onto his shoulders.

Sighing, she tipped the champagne flute to her lips, draining the glass in one go. The sound of a throat clearing behind her had her whirling around, startled. "Trying to get drunk, Miss Weasley?" Harry asked, a twinkle in his eye as he regarded her thoughtfully.

"You caught me," she laughed breathlessly, trying to regain her sense now that Harry's proximity had managed to easily distract her. "What are you doing out here? My veritable sources tell me the party is inside."

"Ah, but you are out here, so that makes it worth it, yeah?" he grinned, setting her stomach tumbling over inside her in what felt like cartwheels. In her eyes (and mind and heart), he was so devastatingly handsome that a smile like that was like an elbow to her gut. "And what are you doing out here? I think that is the vastly more important question."

She smiled at him, leaning back against the railing while still facing him. "I'm just thinking, I suppose. It's such a nice night for an engagement party, don't you think?"

He nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the rail. Glancing over at her, he grinned again. "So, rumor has it that George will be announcing his choice of best man tonight. Care to make a friendly wager on which of your brothers will get the nod?"

Ginny laughed at that, bumping her shoulder into his, thrilling at the contact. "I don't know that he'll pick any of them, though," she smiled, ignoring the icy clench of a fist around her heart at the automatic thought of the one who should be standing up for George. Harry seemed to notice, covering her hand with his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "It could be Lee, don't you think?"

"Nah," Harry grinned, "It'll be Ron. Maybe Percy, if George wants to spice things up a little bit."

"You are so wrong," she countered, rising to his challenge. Apparently she had _not_ learned this lesson yet. "There is no way he will choose one of our brothers."

He smiled at that. "Care to wager on that then? I'll bet you that he picks Ron or Percy, and you can just bet that he'll choose someone who isn't his brother. We just have to come up with some interesting stakes now."

"I haven't agreed to bet you yet," she pointed out. Lord, she could almost swear that he was flirting with her, but that was preposterous, right? Harry Potter never flirted with anyone! In all the years she had known him, he had never…well, suffice it to say that his flirting was not all that likely now.

"Just a formality," he smirked, giving her hand one last squeeze before drawing his back. He clasped his hands together as he leaned forward on his elbows. "You could set the stakes, if you'd like."

"Oh, how magnanimous of you," she couldn't help but laugh. "Anyway, I couldn't even think of anything to wager."

If anything, his smile only grew wider at that. "The winner gets breakfast in bed, made and served by the loser, every Saturday for a month." Her eyes grew big as she considered the possibilities that could go along with breakfast. In a bed. "How does that sound?"

How _did_ that sound? It sounded wonderful, she supposed. Her, Harry, and a bed was a very long-running star scenario in some of her daydreams, so it sounded pretty bloody amazing. "I hope you've been practicing your fry-up skills, Harry," she teased, beaming a big smile his way. "It's a bet then. Shake?"

"Hug," he insisted instead, catching her by surprise as he moved towards her, wrapping her in his arms. "I like my toast golden brown wi – "

"A thin layer of marmalade, yes," she finished for him. A hot blush crept up her cheeks as she realized how much she was giving away. "I mean, we sat at the same breakfast table for a lot of years. Ron likes honey on his."

She could've sworn that his smile had grown even larger at her fumbling explanation. "Well, so long as you have that down, I think these breakfasts in bed will go just fine."

Ginny shook her head, fighting down her blush. "Well, I hope you're ready to get bested by a girl, Potter. There is no way you are winning this bet."

Harry just smiled at her, reaching out to tug on a lock of hair that had escaped her loose bun. "Come on, we should probably go in. I bet Katie will be here any minute, and we don't want to miss the fun." He grinned as he looped his arm around her shoulder. "Ron and Percy helped George implement all the details so I figure it ought to be quite the spectacle. For that alone, he's got cause to choose one of them, yeah?"

"Perhaps," she agreed easily enough, "But didn't they tell you who helped come up with all the plans? You know that Ron doesn't have the patience and Percy certainly doesn't have the imagination."

"You helped him, too?" he asked, a frown marring his handsome features. "No one mentioned that to me."

She tipped her head to the side, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Is that so shocking, really? Honestly, Harry, whose idea did you think it was to use the portable swamp to distract Umbridge your fifth year? I can be just as, shall we say, creatively expressive as the twi – as George."

Impulsively or maybe reflexively, he reached out and dragged her back to him in a tight hug. "I never knew – I guess I just assumed that Fred and George had that up their sleeves all along, and I never really thought about it. I don't even know what to say, Gin. Thanks. Thank you."

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying not to react to the ecstasy of being in his arms like this with his face pressed against her neck. "You don't have to thank me, Harry. You have to know that I'll always help you when I can. Being able to cause a little mischief is just an added bonus."

"And that means a lot to me, Gin," he said seriously as he reluctantly pulled back. The way he stared into her eyes had her insides going squirmy and her heart thumping wildly. "So let me thank you."

"O-okay," she agreed, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Um, well, like you said, perhaps we should go inside. I really would hate to miss Katie's arrival."

He nodded, stepping back and offering her his arm. He grinned when she set her hand in the crook of his elbow. "I'm really happy for your family, Gin. Obviously George especially, but I am happy for all of you. It's nice to have something going on for a change."

She smiled at that as she fought the urge to lean into his side. "It's nice to have something exciting to focus on for a change in the family. Well, aside from Victoire, of course. But you know I do have a career out there." She tipped her head to the side slightly as she regarded him. "Are you ever going to show up for one of my matches?"

Harry's face flushed a red that would do any Weasley proud. "Erm, see the thing is this," he began nervously, fidgeting as he realized they were on dangerous ground. "I have been to your matches. That is, I've been to all of them."

She stopped, her hand falling off his arm. "Really, Harry? You've been to all of my matches?" He inclined his head once, swallowing convulsively. She nodded to herself, her eyes averting from his face. "I see."

"Ginny, wait!" he called out as she marched off, flinging the patio door open. "Bloody hell," he cursed as she melted into the crowd.

Ginny's mind raced as she pushed her way through the happily chatting groups of people. She could not believe that he had been to any – all! – of her matches. Every time she had reminded him of dates or offered tickets, he had declined. He hadn't even ever let Hermione and Ron cajole him into going with them, so how could he tell her now that he had been to all of them?

She was so lost in thought that she didn't even notice her father's approach. "You haven't made much of an appearance tonight," Arthur commented mildly as he watched Charlie pull Percy into a headlock while her other brothers egged him on. "You aren't taking part in tonight's contest?"

"Last time I joined in, Percy hexed me and I ended up with boils that didn't go away for two days," Ginny frowned at the memory. "That doesn't make for pleasant broom-sitting."

"Well, at least one of you finally figured it out," Arthur smiled. "Now, are you going to tell me what is bothering you tonight?"

A little surprised, though she knew shouldn't be, at his intuition, Ginny blushed. "It's just something that Harry said to me," she sighed, giving him a rueful smile. "He told me that he has been to all of my quidditch matches, but that's not true. Hermione told me he always has excuses when they ask. So, why is he telling me that? And if he has, why hasn't he ever said hi to me after one? Why doesn't anyone know? It makes no sense."

"No, it doesn't," Arthur agreed, brushing a hand over her cheek. "The only person who can answer those questions is Harry, dear. Maybe you should ask him."

"I suppose," she grumbled, clearly not thrilled with the idea. "I just don't understand it, Dad."

"I know, pumpkin. But you know how to fix that."

She nodded, smiling up at him. "Well, that aside, this is a nice party, don't you think? Katie is going to love it. George is really in his element."

Arthur nodded, his eyes seeking out the discussed son. "It is certainly a sight for my sore eyes," he admitted with a tired smile. "Katie has really brought him back around."

"We all needed a bit of bringing around," Ginny pointed out rightly.

Smiling at his only daughter, Arthur nodded again. "You should remember that no one needed it – needs it still, I imagine – more than Harry."

She frowned in response to that. "Of course I know that! I don't begrudge him that either, if that's what you're thinking. It's just so odd that he'd be so secretive about attending my stupid quidditch matches."

"You'll figure it out," Arthur encouraged her. All of a sudden, the lights dim. "Ah, if I'm not mistaken, I think that means Katie is about to arrive. I'm going to go find your mother, my dear. Would you like to join us?"

She grinned at him as she pulled back from giving him a quick hug. "No thanks, Dad. I think I'm going to give Ron a hard time. I talked George into creating a candy that will have Ron scolding himself – in Hermione's voice, nonetheless – whenever he steps out line."

Arthur chuckled even as he shook his head at the antics of his children. "Don't torture your brother too much, Ginevra. He's already a bit of a wreck with her being gone."

"I'll try to contain myself," she promised, an impish grin gracing her face. "Thanks for the talk, Dad."

"Anytime, sweetheart. Enjoy yourself tonight."

She nodded, giving him a big smile as he stepped away. She stayed where she was, comfortably on the edge of the crowd as Katie arrived, prompting several magical fireworks to simultaneously go off in the large room. They were sweet, heart-shaped and pink, and even from her distance, Ginny could see the tears in Katie's eyes as she beamed at George in surprise.

Harry was standing there on the fringes of the group, and although he clapped and cheered along with the rest of the crowd, she could tell that his smile did not reach his eyes. She wanted to be happy that he was upset, but maybe the festive atmosphere had weakened her will as that was not her reaction at all. Sighing, she admitted to herself that she wanted to hear him out. She might not like what he had to say, but she owed it to them both to hear it anyway.

All of a sudden, he looked up and caught her gaze. To her surprise, his face flushed and he looked down at the ground. That only served to make her feel worse, so when he glanced back up, she shot him a smile. His body relaxed visibly at that, and he returned her smile with one of his own.

She felt better just from that, and smiled to herself as she made her way over to George and Katie. They greeted her with open arms and George boasted to Katie, "Half of this stuff was Gin's idea. The Egyptian pygmy fair lights, the heart-shaped pyrotechnics, the – "

"The table linens, silverware, and the roof, too," Ginny cut in cheekily, laughing with Katie at George's wounded look. "Well, it's true! You'd have just as soon let everyone eat with their fingers out in the drizzle!"

"Well, either way, it's really lovely, Gin. Thank you so much for helping George with all of this," Katie enthused, casting a sly glance George's way. "Goodness knows he couldn't have come close to managing this on his own."

Ginny smiled at both of them. "Well, I really am glad to help my favorite brother in any way I can."

As George preened at the praise, Ron's exclaimed protest drew their attention to his approach, Harry approaching from the other side. "Well, that's just a bloody lie, Gin. We all know that I'm your favorite!"

Of course, Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's outburst, but turned to Ginny with an amused grin on his face. Ginny ignored her brothers, instead focusing on Harry. She took him by the arm, guiding him to a quieter corner of the room. "I'm sorry. So sorry. For just taking off earlier, I mean."

"No, you don't need to apologize for that, Gin. I-it was stupid of me to – well, I guess nearly every part of it was stupid, yeah?" he asked ruefully. "I don't really have a good reason for any of it, either. I could say that I wanted to avoid the press, but it wasn't really that."

"Harry, you don't have to explain," she suddenly realized. "It seems to me that you were there, and that is more than enough. Maybe someday you'll just let us know that you're there."

He blinked at her in surprise before eyeing her suspiciously. "You're letting me off too easily," he complained. "You ought to be angry with me for not being honest with you. I don't deserve a free pass."

"No, you haven't done some horrible, unforgivable thing, Harry. Yes, it would've been nice to know you were there so we could've talked about it, but that's your prerogative. I promise, I'm not angry with you," she smiled at him. "This way too happy of a night to be upset with anyone, especially you."

"Thank you then," he sighed in relief, reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Fancy some food? With both Ron and Charlie here, we should get some before it's all gone. I pity the people who don't know that."

She laughed at that, nodding her agreement. "That sounds like the smart idea. I've had several glasses of champagne already, so getting some food is probably a very good idea."

He laced their fingers together, pulling her along with him. Not that she was really complaining, but the whole thing was a little odd. They'd been friends for a long time (excluding the best few weeks of Ginny's life when they were more than friends), but holding hands had never been a part of their friendship. It wasn't that she disliked holding his hand; that was far from being the case. But it was hard, like a tantalizing tease of something she did not really have, but maybe in another life could have had.

Ginny resolved to take what she could get and just revel in it for as long as she had it. Getting over Harry Potter was a day-to-day ordeal for her, so what was yet another setback in the grand scheme of things? Even seeing Harry in passing at the Burrow was a setback, so this was just another day, just another day of unrequited love for one Harry James Potter. She figured she could handle it, at least semi-well.

They walked through the crowd together, getting stopped a few times by old schoolmates who wanted to say hello. Ginny blushed furiously at the appraising looks they received as a result of the hand-holding, but Harry did not even seem to notice. They were stopped just before the food table by Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas, an on and off couple since the final battle two years ago.

"Ah, Harry, I see that you've taken my advice," Luna smiled as Dean and Harry shook hands. Since her right hand was occupied by Harry's left, Ginny gave their friends a smile and a wave with her left as she puzzled over Luna's comments.

"What advice did you get from Luna?" she asked curiously as Luna and Dean headed off to mingle.

Again, he flushed lightly, raising her interest even higher. Harry rarely flushed and when he did, it certainly wasn't with the frequency of tonight. "It was nothing," Harry mumbled, pulling her towards the food a little more quickly.

She laughed in surprise at his attempted evasion. "Why won't you tell me? Is it so awful then?"

He mock glared at her as he released her hand so they could pick up plates. "It's not that it was so awful, really; it's just that it was very Luna-ish. I'm not sure I even fully understood what she said. You know how thick I can be, right?"

"Yes, of course I do," she agreed with a smile as she served herself. "And I also know how Luna can be. That's why it's so odd that you don't want to tell me. I can always use a good laugh."

"Erm, well, you know me, I like to keep that mysterious, Boy-Who-Lived air about me," he grinned, again trying to deflect her curiosity. "A bloke needs to have a few secrets, right?"

Smiling indulgently, she patted him on the arm. "Whatever you say, Harry."

"I say that I see your family has a table over there with two seats left. You are probably expected to fill one of them, Miss Weasley."

"I'd imagine that both of us are expected over there," she corrected him. She knew there wasn't a single member of the family that didn't automatically include Harry in all things Weasley. "Come on, you'll take the one next to Charlie, and I'll sit beside Ron. I'll keep my wand handy, just in case he has anything rude to say."

Harry laughed, following her to the table with a small smile on his face. He sat down, Ginny on one side and Charlie on the other. He let the conversation flow around him, more focused on how Ginny's leg would brush against his when she shifted to look at someone on her left. Every tiny, incidental touch from her sent his body into overdrive.

Shaking his head slightly, he couldn't help but think he was the luckiest bloke in the world considering that Ginny was still sitting beside him. Glancing her way, he couldn't help but smile hugely when she caught his gaze on her. She smiled back immediately, and the pink-tinged flush on her cheeks only accentuated her loveliness.

"George must be planning something," Ginny whispered, leaning into Harry's side. "He's practically bouncing in his seat, and he's got his mischief look on his face."

Harry, insanely distracted by the smell of her hair and the warmth and feel of her body, could barely focus his mind enough to respond. "Oh, y-yes, mischief. I mean, that seems a likely scenario, yes," he agreed ham-handedly, knowing she must think him an idiot.

Her face didn't betray any disgust, though, and he was willing to take that as a good sign. "Hopefully it's not anything too crazy. I'd hate for him to finally scare Katie away so close to the big day." Harry sighed deeply, prompting her to poke him in the ribs and chide, "Harry! That was a joke, laugh!"

He willed himself to relax enough to chuckle weakly which earned (gratifyingly enough) a huge, beaming smile from Ginny. "I do laugh once in awhile, you know," he pointed out in a low voice.

"Yes, I know," she agreed, laying a hand over his where it rested on his knee. "It's just that you ought to laugh more. You _deserve_ to laugh more, Harry."

"Thanks," he whispered, unconsciously leaning towards her. Just when he was close enough that her eyelids were fluttering closed, the cacophonous sound of an entire table of silverware tapping on glasses and plates ruined the moment and startled them apart.

"If I may have your attention, please," Percy began as he stood up, giving George a reproachful look until the silverware ceased its tapping. "Yes, as I was saying," Percy continued once George finally settled down, "Congratulations to George and Katie. George, I know that you're aware of how lucky you are, so I won't say more on that. And Katie, well. What can I say except thank you! For taking George off our hands, that is."

It took a moment for the family to recognize Percy's joke as just that, but once they did, the entire table laughed heartily. Ginny, Harry was pleased to find, was giggling so hard she had to lean into his side for support. Without letting himself think about it, he slid his arm around her waist, his hand resting lightly on her hip. She glanced up at him questioningly, but just smiled tentatively when he met her gaze. He knew that he wasn't really playing fair, but since his intentions were good, he tried to ignore the slight pangs of guilt he felt. Besides, touching her felt too good stop, unless she told him to, of course.

As everyone's laughter died down – and a pleased looking Percy found his seat – Ginny leaned up and whispered, "George looks a little dazed, doesn't he? It's still very disconcerting when Percy makes a joke."

"I dunno, I think he looks impressed," Harry teased her, ignoring the curious looks they were drawing from the family. "Maybe I'm onto something and he's chosen Percy as his best man, huh?"

She rolled her eyes at his gentle goading, not taking the bait. "Well, I can't deny it is possible, but I still think that you are quite wrong. And for the record, _my_ favorite breakfast items are – "

"Porridge with fruit and a sprinkling of brown sugar, half a banger that you usually have to wrestle away from Ron – I won't make you wrestle me, unless you want to – black tea, and half a piece of toast, crusts set to the side." Ginny blinked up at him in surprise. "What? I pay attention to the people that I care about!"

"Right, I know you do," she agreed faintly, pulling away from him slightly as Bill stood to say a few words to the happy couple. She half listened for a moment before turning back to Harry. "Harry? How does Hermione take her tea? What's Ron's favorite pudding?"

"Erm, what difference does that make?" Harry stammered out, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "Oh, we'll have to talk later; George is standing up."

She almost laughed aloud at his discomfort, but settled for rolling her eyes and easing up on him. They both knew that she'd just file the conversation away for later to ask again when he least expected it, but she was sure he appreciated the reprieve nonetheless. Sighing, she reached over and patted him on the thigh, just above his knee. It was a little touch compared to his arm being wrapped around her waist, but she figured she would take what she could get.

As George waited to get everyone's attention, Harry let his gaze linger on Ginny. It wasn't that he didn't want her to know that there was no one he paid more attention, but he wasn't sure that he was ready yet. And he was quite sure that Ginny wasn't ready yet. He needed to ease her into this, not just drop it on her head and shock her into hiding. He just needed more time to show her how he felt so she would believe it when he said it. Right now, he wasn't sure she'd trust his words and he needed – for both of their sake, for her to trust him and his feelings.

"Alright everyone," George grins, winking at Katie. "What my brothers have said is completely true. I am one very lucky man, and I know it. I know that winning Katie's heart was a miracle, and I am grateful for it every day." He paused to let everyone 'aw' and laugh at the sentiment. "Right, then. There is one other important piece of business that needs to be resolved. The best man business.

"As all of you know, that's something of a tough situation. While I have no shortage of brothers and friends who could and deserve to fill the role, it is a position that I think we all naturally assumed Fred would be here to fill. Since that wasn't meant to be, I guess that I got stuck with a tough decision. I could go on and on about the merits of my brothers and Lee, but they all have big enough heads, so I'll save some oxygen for the rest of us.

"The thing is, I didn't know what to do, so I talked to Katie and my dad and then Katie again. See, both Katie and Dad told me to think about what Fred would do, and….well, it was so obvious then. Luckily, Katie agreed to my somewhat unorthodox plan. Anyway, Fred always joked that we had a third, younger, and far, far prettier twin, and that's who he would've picked if he were in this position."

Beside Harry, Ginny gasped quietly. He reached out, blindly searching for her hand under the table. When their fingers met, she immediately laced them together.

George cleared his throat, grinning sheepishly at his younger sister. "So, will ya, Gin? Will you be my best man?"

Ginny faltered a little, her surprise at being asked still evident on her face. Harry squeezed her hand, giving it a little tug to get her moving out her seat. "I – yes, of course, George," she agreed with a little laugh. "Oh, I'd be honored." She frowned, thinking of the possibilities. "But you cannot use this as an excuse to dress me up in something that clashes horridly with my hair. Or in men's robes!"

"Don't worry," Katie promised with a wide smile of her own, "I've already extracted that promise from him. I'm so glad you said yes, Ginny!"

"Me, too," George grinned, looking a little misty eyed.

"There was no other answer," Ginny smiled, reluctantly letting go of Harry's hand long enough to move around the table to hug her brother and soon to be sister-in-law. "Thank you, George. I know it's not the same, but I'll do my best."

George straightened up, winking at her. "Of course," he announced loudly, "This means you'll have to plan the bachelor party. I want strippers, lots and lots of debauchery and strippers!"

Katie and Ginny rolled their eyes at one another as the room erupted in laughter, catcalls, and scolding (mostly from Molly). "Okay, really, though, thank you, Gin," George called, wrapping an arm around his tiny sister's shoulder. "I'm really glad to have you stand up with me."

She stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek before retaking her seat next to Harry. He grinned hugely at her as she sank down into her chair. "You just won the Weasley brothers Best Man sweepstakes. What will you do next?"

"Oh, well, obviously I'll have to celebrate with a glass of champagne," she smiled. "And of course, begin the endless mocking of the rest of this lot who were clearly not up to snuff. Beat out by an ickle girl. Shameful, really."

"Just _a_ glass of champagne, Gin?" Charlie teased, arching an eyebrow at her as Harry chuckled. "You sure you aren't already at nine or ten?"

George mimed wiping a tear from his eye as Ginny mimed a rude gesture at Charlie – with_out_ letting Molly catch her. "That's why I chose, Gin," he sniffled dramatically.

"Just how many drinks have you had, Ginevra?" Molly put in sharply, her eyes focused on her daughter's face.

"Honestly, Mum, only a couple. Well, not counting the firewhiskey, of course," Ginny said with a completely straight face. Harry admired that ability of hers fiercely. "Really, Mum, I'm not the person at this table most likely to make a drunken scene at an inappropriate family event."

"Hey!" Ron protested loudly around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "That was _one_ time, and don't drag me into this!"

To defuse the no doubt heated retort forming on Ginny's lips, Harry leaned into her side and noted, "His manners are far worse when Hermione isn't around."

Luckily everyone, Ron excluded as he and Harry had not spoken since the debacle at training, laughed at Harry's observation and Ginny gave him such a bright smile that it was all worth it. He was pretty sure that smile would make a week under the Cruciatus worth it. As everyone went back to eating, Mr. Weasley dragged Harry into a conversation about some new Muggle items he had come across while Ginny fell into a quiet conversation with Fleur.

Once dinner was over, the tables were whisked out of the way forming a large dance floor and people began dancing to the music that filled the air. Before Harry could even begin to gather his courage in order to ask Ginny for a dance, Charlie had grabbed her and was twirling the laughing young woman around the floor. It was more than a little irrational to be jealous of her brother, but rationality was one of the reasons Hermione was such a valuable friend. Harry frequently forgot his.

"Well, how long then?" Bill's amused voice broke into Harry's thoughts. At the younger man's blank stare, Bill clarified, "How long have you been in love with Ginny?"

"Oh, I – see, it's like – " Harry tried to explain (but failed miserably) until Bill cut him off with a chuckle and a raised hand.

"It's obvious, Harry. Anyone who knows you can tell, I'd wager. Except my sister, I'm guessing."

Not seeing an easy way out of this conversation, Harry simply nodded. "Is that okay?"

He was more curious than anything. Frankly, he was to the point where all that mattered to him was having Ginny in his life, and that was likely to be more easily accomplished if her family was on their side. Bill clapped him on the back as he grinned at him. "It's great, Harry. You know that you are a part of the family anyway, and believe me, everyone is going to be glad that you two have finally wised up."

"I was wise all along," Harry muttered, wrenching his gaze off of Ginny to stare down at his shoes in embarrassment. "It was – there were other things going on, and I – I just couldn't act on it."

Bill groaned loudly. "Please don't tell me that Ron's stupid, rude fight with Ginny is what has prompted this, Harry. That's bollocks, you know. You have to do it because you mean it."

Harry immediately nodded, trying not to get defensive. "It's not about Ron. Maybe what he said made me realize I _had_ to do something or risk losing her, and I couldn't – can't – I don't want to lose her again."

"What are you going to do about it?" Bill asked, plainly curious.

"I – make her fall in love with me, I hope," Harry sighed, blushing at the soppiness of his words. "Since I was sixteen, she's the only thing I've wanted and needed, aside from defeating Voldemort. I'll probably just mess everything up again, but I have to try. Gin, she's – she's the best thing that ever happened to me, and I can't lose her."

Bill tried not to smile too knowingly. "Then if that's how you feel, you ought to do something about it, Harry. Who is that bloke she's dancing with now? O'Flaherty? Finnegan?"

Sure enough, Seamus Finnegan was twirling Ginny across the dance floor in a series of complicated-looking steps that may or may not have been part of an actual dance. Harry frowned at them, and outright scowled when Ginny blushed at something Seamus said. To Harry's relief, the music came to a stop after a final flourish, and he ignored Bill's laughter as he pushed his way through the crowd to Ginny's side.

"Hey," he said in a low voice as his fingers brushed against hers. "Dance with me?" He spared a nod for his former classmate. "Seamus."

"Hi Harry," Seamus nodded in return. "Well, thanks for that dance, Gin. I ought to go get that drink I promised Alicia."

"Sure, anytime, Seamus," Ginny smiled easily at Seamus. Once he was gone, she turned to Harry with a slightly confused look. "Everything alright? You know, you aren't obligated to dance with me? I know it isn't your favorite thing in the world."

"Dancing with you isn't exactly an awful prospect," he shrugged ruefully as he held out his hand.

She placed her much smaller one in his. "You only say that because you have never danced with me before," she teased. "I'm far better on a broom!"

Harry smiled down at her as they started revolving slowly to the music. "Well, that's only to be expected considering how good you look on your broom. Nothing's better than that."

"Oh! I mean, thank you, Harry. I – I don't – well, maybe that's the sweetest thing you have ever said to me. Thank you, Harry. That's…sweet."

He stopped dancing, nearly toppling her in the process. _Surely _that couldn't have been the nicest, sweetest thing he had ever said to her. Surely he must have paid her far better compliments than that. "That can't possibly be the nicest thing I've ever said to you!" he blurted out unthinkingly. "Gin, you surely know that…that…"

Great, how was he going to finish that? He couldn't very well just exclaim that he adored, loved, wanted, and needed her, but even he knew enough to know that he had to say something.

"You're wonderful, Gin, better than that even. I think that everything about you is amazing," he said in a rush as he held eye contact with her. "I hope you know that."

She flushed a delicate pink, but stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck again. As they began to sway to again in time with the music, she turned her face up towards his. "Thanks, Harry. For the record, I think that you are pretty amazing, too. Far more so than you give yourself credit for."

He shrugged noncommittally, never truly comfortable with praise. It was even more acute now when he knew that he did not deserve it from her. "I just did what any child of prophecy would have done."

"You did so much more than that, but that wasn't what I meant."

"What did you mean, then?"

She grinned up at him. "Why Harry James Potter, are you fishing for compliments?"

He laughed, relaxing a little. "Not fishing, but I'm certainly not opposed to receiving any compliments that you might want to give me, Gin. So if you must, feel free to compliment away."

Ginny laughed, too, delighted by his playfulness. It wasn't a side that came out very often, but when it did, she always found it completely charming. "Alright, you want compliments, you got them. You're smart and funny and your capacity to just _care_ never ceases to amaze me. You are a wonderful friend, and we're all so lucky to have you in our lives. You even manage to be one of the most charming people I know, when you forget to be broody and dark."

"Thanks," he murmured, new hope coursing through his veins at her words. "That is definitely the nicest things that any has ever said to me. About me."

"Well, I find that hard to believe," she retorted gently, remembering some of the more effusive articles in the _Prophet_ just after Voldemort's defeat. "I happen to have it on good authority that you are a very popular member of our community. I think I even overheard a pretty young witch composing a sonnet in your honor the other day."

He rolled his eyes, only partially able to discount that as mere teasing. "None of that means anything to me. Those people, their silly opinions don't matter to me at all, and anyway, they're just stupidly giving me unnecessary credit. They don't know anything that really happened."

Ginny stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "They know that you did extraordinary things to make our world safe, and they appreciate you for it. You're right that don't know you, but Harry, if they did, they'd still feel the same way. Maybe even stronger." Her eyes widen as she spots something over his right shoulder. "Crap, Harry, hide me!"

"What?" he blurted out, confused. "Hide you from….?"

She didn't let him finish the question as she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the hall, yanking open the first door they came to before pulling him inside with her. "Bloody hell, I didn't know he'd be here!"

Harry found himself scowling in the dark, cramped room at that. That's what she dragged him into a dusty broom closet for? To hide from some – some _him_? "Erm, who are we hiding from, Gin? A slightly crazy date? If he can't take no for an answer, I'd be happy to set him straight."

Laughing mirthlessly at that, she poked him in the ribs. "Right, a crazy date. I'd have to actually go on a date to find a crazy one, I suspect."

"You haven't been dating at all? I thought Ron was exaggerating because, well, he does that sometimes," he asked with some incredulity. He'd just assumed that of course she was dating because who wouldn't want to date her? But then again, he'd never heard any talk of it, and he'd certainly never been able to bring himself to ask.

"I haven't since yo – well, I haven't dated since my fifth year," she sighed quietly, puffing out a breath of air that ruffled her fringe. "But that's neither here nor there at the moment. I don't want Oliver finding me tonight."

"Oliver? Wait, Wood? What the hell does he want with you?" Harry practically growled, suddenly grateful for the darkness of the closet. Surely his possessiveness would be written all over his face. "Gin, if he's bothering you, you should have told me sooner!"

He felt rather than saw her shift closer to him. "It's not like that at all," she giggled, laying a hand on his arm. "He knows that the Harpies only signed me to a year long contract, and he's been pestering me to leave them and sign with Puddlemere in the off season. He's rather incorrigible about it, and he has yet to take my repeated 'no' as an answer."

Exhaling softly, he nodded to himself. "He's pretty, erm, enthusiastic about quidditch. I reckon that's why he's such a good captain. I could've warned you about that, though." He cleared his throat quietly, covering her hand with his own. "Really, though, Gin. If you ever need anything – I – you can ask me. Please, ask me."

"You do know that you don't have to, right?" She peered up at him intently despite the dark of the closet. "I have more than a few older brothers; I don't expect that I'd need another one, Harry."

"No! I wasn't trying – that's not what I meant, Gin!" Harry exclaimed, inadvertently raising his voice. "I _don't_ want to be your brother – "

Before he could finish his thought, the closet door is flung open and there stood Oliver Wood, a triumphantly smug grin plastered across his face. "Not nice to hide, Ginny. You know that my determination far outweighs yours." He turned to Harry with a grin. "Hello, Harry! How have you been lately?"

Harry blinked a few times before wrenching his gaze off of Ginny's. "Oh, yes, I've been fine, yeah. How about you?"

"Great, great, although I'll be even better when Ginny here agrees to leave the Harpies and come play for a real team for a change," Oliver grinned, winking at Ginny.

"Wood," Ginny growled in warning, "I've told you a thousand times, no, thank you! You ought to go out and find players who actually want to play for Puddlemere!"

"Any position you want!" Oliver offered, completely ignoring the implicit threat in Ginny's voice. "It doesn't just have to be seeker, we could find a chaser position, too! Maybe you could even split time between the two, depending on the opponent!"

Harry glanced at Ginny in surprise. "Seeker, Gin? Oliver, I don't know if you noticed, but Ginny is about the finest chaser in the league. Why would you want to play her at seeker?"

Oliver glared at Ginny before throwing his hands up and turning towards Harry. "Didn't you see her play at all during her seventh year at Hogwarts? Her seeker was knocked out the practice before the first match, and she was the only one capable of filling in, and when the cowardly little runt refused to return, she had to keep it all year. She made some spectacular catches, you know. None with her mouth, but she was still just as reckless as you in her attempts to get the snitch."

"Just how reckless were you?" Harry directed Ginny's way. He'd missed all her seventh year games while he'd spent that year hiding out away from the prying eyes of the public. Or, as Ron said, all the best and easiest to feel sorry for himself. Ginny just rolled her eyes to show her exasperation with the question. "Right, anyway, well, I know Gin is a great seeker, but she's truly an exceptional chaser."

She smiled at him, her cheeks flushing with delight at the compliment. "Thanks, Harry, that means a lot to me." She gave him another wide smile before turning back to Oliver. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but I am happy with the Harpies. I'll see you around."

Oliver frowned at the dismissal. "At least take my card. It's got my floo address on it, along with all the important team contacts. You should at least talk to the office about possible contracts."

Without a word, she took the card as Oliver and Harry said their farewells and Oliver left them alone again, the door swinging shut and plunging the little closet back into darkness. "I suppose I don't need to hide in here any longer," she giggled, reaching out for the door handle. "Thanks for helping me hide."

"It's like I said before, I'm here for whatever you need, Gin. I wish that I'd seen those games at Hogwarts. I only saw you play seeker once, my fifth year."

"Of course, you caught the one game that I failed to catch it," she laughed, a little breathless thinking of just how much Harry has missed out on. "Well, I'm a back-up seeker for the Harpies now, so maybe you'll see me in action someday."

He nodding, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, I hope so. Or well, maybe we could get a pick-up game going someday. Obviously, we'd have to play you at seeker so you didn't have too unfair of an advantage, Madame All-Star."

She laughed lightly, wishing the closet wasn't so dark. Rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, she pulled out her wand and murmured, "Lumos. There, that's better." He smiled back at her, looking surprisingly relaxed. "You're the youngest seeker in a century, Harry. Why are you challenging little, old me?"

He rolled his eyes at that. "And I've barely sat a broom the last two and a half years. It seems likely that you would be able to take me out there."

"You ought to fly more often, Harry," she encouraged gently. "It always showed on your face how much you loved it. You deserve to have those moments where you're just enjoying the things you love."

He glanced down at his shoes, scuffing them in the dust on the floor. "I guess that's just hard for me," he admitted with a sheepish shrug. "There never seemed to be time for me to go after the things I wanted, or I knew I couldn't have them because of…well, other things. Maybe now I don't know how."

Ginny is quiet for a beat, letting her anger at all the injustices he has suffered wash over her yet again. "You have time now, and you have a lot of people who love you dearly and will help you in any way that they can. You have a lot of people who consider you family. You should go after what you want, Harry. I bet you'll get everything."

"I'm already trying," he insisted quietly, as much to himself as to her. "I really am trying, and I hope that you are right."


	4. The Power of Hermione

A/N: I apologize for the lengthy delay. I won't bore you with the details, but I've been on a roll with this story lately and I hope to have more very soon. Please leave a review, they certainly help! Also, this story still does not have a beta (although, if you have a suggestion for one, I'm all ears...), so I again, apologies for the mistakes. But chapters one through three have all been edited recently, and hopefully that makes them just a little prettier!

Happy New Year!

**Part Four – **_**The Power of Hermione**_

Pacing back and forth in the living room of her flat, Ginny kept casting anxious glances toward the fireplace as she waited for it to flare to life with the familiar green flames. She was expecting a floo call from Hermione, and her normally punctual friend was now fifteen minutes late – and counting. Sighing dramatically, Ginny flopped down on the couch and buried her face in a pillow to muffle her scream of frustration.

"That bad, then?" Hermione asked in bemusement, barely fighting back a grin when Ginny fell off the couch, startled by her friend's sudden appearance. "Are you alright?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, crawling over to the fireplace. "Oh, Hermione, he's driving me crazy! He – he's messing with my head, and he's even messing with my body, and he's – how am I supposed to move on if he's constantly around, which he is these days? I don't know what to do anymore. I can't keep ignoring my feelings, which is my obvious preference, because he won't let me!"

Hermione watched her panicked friend with wide eyes. "Ginevra Weasley, don't scare me like that! For a second or two there, I thought something horrible had happened. Honestly, why are you so worked up about nothing?"

"Nothing? You call this nothing? This is not nothing!" Ginny fairly screeched, earning a warning flinch from Hermione. "He ignored me for years, barely even deigning to look my way! He refused to come to my matches, he never showed up for my birthdays or celebration parties, and now – I don't know what he's doing, Hermione! He hugs me and touches me and tells me suddenly that he's never missed a single match, and I want to be mad at him, but I can't. And your fiancé, ohhh, I could _kill_ him! Absolutely murder him without the scantest trace of remorse!"

"Oh, what in the world has Ronald done now?" Hermione huffed in exasperation, unsurprised by her inability to doubt that Ron would be involved in this…well, whatever this was. "He certainly hasn't mentioned anything to me. Oh! He did say that Harry was upset with him; is that what this is about?"

"No! Yes, I don't know, Hermione. At dinner, Ron had the nerve to get after me for being single. He all but spelled out the fact that I haven't been on a single date since Harry dumped me at the funeral, and then he…"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, groaning in frustration. "And Harry was there for that, right?"

Ginny nodded, smiling bitterly. "And then I let Ron goad me into a bet that I would be engaged by George's wedding, which is obviously not feasible or something I really want to do. To make things even more complicated, Harry is always around all of a sudden! He's in my space and my home and being very, very un-Harry like. I don't know what's going on. If he were anyone else, I'd think he was flirting with me, but I know better than that."

"Well, tell me what Harry has been doing," Hermione instructed soothingly. She paused for a second, thinking. "Actually, stand back, I'm coming over."

Before Ginny could even formulate a protest – international apparation fees were exorbitant these days, particularly for those who paid for emergency privileges – Hermione's head was already out of the fire. Pushing to her feet, Ginny shook her head and made her way to the kitchen to get a tea tray ready. As she was levitating it to the living room, Hermione appeared near the front door."

Hastily settling the tray on the table, Ginny squealed with delight as she threw her arms around her friend. "Oh, you didn't have to come, but I am so happy that you did!"

"I've missed you, too!" Hermione smiled hugely, hugging her tightly in return. "Now, tell me what is going on. I want to hear all about this flirting that Harry has been doing. It almost defies belief, but I suppose that is the main theme of Harry's life. Hopefully he's improved since school days?"

"He's quite wonderful at it, so perhaps I am just imagining it," Ginny muttered ruefully, her face falling a bit. "It certainly wouldn't be a very Harry thing to do, so maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part."

Hermione guided Ginny to a chair, as comfortable here in her friend's place as she was in her own. "Tell me the whole story," she ordered gently. "Honestly, though, Gin. You know Harry as well as – better even! – anyone else does; if you think he's been flirting with you, then he undoubtedly has."

"Well, he's showed up here with dinner; he had all of my favorite foods with him, if you can believe that. I didn't even realize he knew how much – well, anyway, that was a day or two after that awful dinner where Ron goaded me into the bet. Honestly, I know you love him, but there is something seriously wrong with him, Hermione. He just had to humiliate both Harry and I right in front of the family. Harry took it even worse than I did, you know. George told me yesterday that he heard from one of the auror trainees who visits the shop a lot that Harry used Ron as a training dummy." Hermione's mouth dropped open at that bit of information. "Not only that, but I'm pretty sure they haven't spoken yet. I know they didn't at the engagement party, at any rate."

"They – well, it's just like Ron to forget mentioning something like this me, isn't it?" Hermione huffed indignantly. "Honestly, what is wrong with those two? I can certainly see why Harry is upset, but to use Ron as target practice is a little beyond the pale." She shook her head, muttering under her breath. "I suppose that's a bit off the topic, though. What else has Harry done?"

Ginny sighed, her expression softening as she allowed herself to be consumed with thoughts of Harry. "He's just been attentive, sweet, and…and sexy. He spent the whole evening of George and Katie's party with me, even dancing with me several times. Now there's the silly bet we made, and I just don't know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "Bet? What does this bet entail?"

"He bet that George would choose Ron or Perce or _one_ of our brothers as his best man. I disagreed," Ginny stated succinctly. "I won. George asked me to stand up for him, so I won the bet."

"And what did you win?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in her interest. "What were the stakes, I mean."

"The winner would get four weeks of Saturday breakfasts-in-bed," Ginny explained, watching Hermione warily to gauge her response. Hermione's eyebrows rose near to her hairline at that. "It's not a big deal, though, right? And it certainly does not mean anything. Honestly, I cannot even imagine where Harry would get an idea such as that."

"That may be the most blatant attempt at expressing his feelings that Harry has ever made," Hermione frowned thoughtfully. She rolled her eyes when Ginny scoffed at that. "Oh, you know I'm right, Ginevra Weasley. You are just too chicken to admit it."

Ginny raised a challenging eyebrow at her best friend. "I'm not a chicken; I am a realist, and it is not realistic for me to believe that Harry has any interest in me that extends beyond friendship. He has made that quite clear the past several years, and I've – I'm trying to accept that he doesn't see me that way. I'm working hard to come to terms with that."

Hermione nodded, clucking sympathetically. "I do understand all that, Ginny. Everything you think and feel is completely justified, and I get that. But I want you to think about it for a moment, and admit that when you're being honest with yourself, you know that Harry is…pursuing you."

"I – oh, alright, fine," Ginny huffed in exasperation. "He's flirting with me, yes, but I'm not convinced that he is 'pursuing' me, as you'd put it. Maybe he's just looking for a – a fling!" At Hermione's pointed look, Ginny shrugged in defeat. "Yes, you're right. He'd never do that, ever."

"Especially not to you," Hermione emphasized. "Gin, I don't know why now, but it seems to me that Harry has finally decided that he's free to pursue you. If you don't want this, if you don't want or can't trust him, you had better make that abundantly clear to him. If that's how you feel, it would be better for both of you if this flirtation was stopped now before it really gets started."

Ginny dragged a hand through her hair as she sighed raggedly. "Yeah, you're right, that wouldn't do."

Hermione gaped at her, sputtering, "B-but you can't have already decided! Ginny, think about it! This could be the happiness that you and Harry both deserve, have been waiting for! Don't be so hasty!"

"Oh, erm, I actually meant that I'd try and be relaxed about all of this," Ginny smiled, a touch of shyness behind the gesture. "Maybe even enjoy it a little bit, if possible."

"You – okay then," Hermione giggled in relief. "I really do not think you'll be sorry about this, Gin. This is definitely a good thing, for both of you."

Ginny gave her a wan smile, fidgeting nervously. "I wish I had your optimism. It's just rather hard to let myself hope for the best when it comes to Harry. Sometimes it seems as though I've spent a lifetime being inadvertently crushed by him, you know?"

Hermione felt her heart break a little for Ginny, easily able to recall all of the times Harry had unwittingly and unintentionally hurt her. "Harry would never toy with you like that, Gin. Not on purpose."

Looking up with sad eyes, Ginny managed a small smile. "I guess that's the point then. What if this – all of this – is just in my head? What if I only see it because I _want_ it to be there, so very badly. I know he's never meant to hurt me, but that almost makes it worse in a way. It's like I'm not even worth it, do you understand what I mean?"

"Oh, Ginny, you know that isn't true! You are very important to Harry, and he most certainly gives you plenty of second thoughts," Hermione protested vehemently.

"I know it isn't rational," Ginny agreed tiredly, "But that's just how it feels sometimes."

"It won't feel like that forever. I know it won't, and once you two finally figure things out, then it will all seem worth it," Hermione suggested. "Just give him the chance. And not to sound like my idiotic husband, but bloody hell, give yourself the chance, too!"

In spite of herself, Ginny laughed at her normally prim friend. "I'll do my best," she promised automatically. "I suppose I wasn't sorted into Gryffindor _only_ because of some Weasley default, right? I – I can try. I can certainly flirt back. Erm, that is, I'll continue to flirt back."

Hermione snorted not-so-delicately. "I was going to say that I couldn't imagine a single scenario in which you would not be flirting right back."

"Hey!" Ginny laughed in protest. "I can't help that! Harry's very sexy, and it is extraordinarily hard to resist flirting with him!"

"If you say so," Hermione replied doubtfully. "Personally, I find the hotheaded, passionate, freckled, assertive types to be more satisfying. But, that's just me!"

Ginny groaned at that. "Never refer to my brother and satisfaction in the same sentence again, please. That is wholly inappropriate. Not to mention yucky."

"Your brother – "

"Is my brother," Ginny cut her off before she could really get started, "And would not want me to hear this just as much as I don't want to hear it."

Hermione laughed, used to this from Ginny. "That's fair enough, but when you and Harry finally get to that point, I'm sure I won't want to hear the details either."

"Since I've had to listen to the nasty details of what you and Ron get up to for the last two years, I cannot make any promises," Ginny teased, finally beginning to feel a little better about everything. "Thank you for coming, Hermione. Having you here and talking this through has really helped."

"Anytime, Gin," Hermione beamed, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I wish I could be here all the time, but I suppose it is only another couple of months."

Ginny squeezed back. "Are you going to visit Ron while you are here tonight? He'd love to see you, Hermione. He misses you terribly, you know."

Closing her eyes, Hermione smirked shyly. "It's tempting to not see him and then send an owl tomorrow. That would serve him right." She opened her eyes, staring out the window. "It'd just be very hard to leave tomorrow morning if I saw him now. It's hard enough being here with you."

"Oh, Hermione! Go see him," Ginny encouraged. "He's awful without you, and it'd be even worse if he found out you were here and didn't stop by. Maybe spending some time together will make these last couple of months go a little faster. It might be…refreshing."

"You are right, of course," Hermione smiled, "And I do want to see him. Actually, I think I'll go now, if you don't mind. I don't have much longer before I have to get back, and I'd like to have as much time with him as possible."

"Yes, go!" she agreed, moving to stand. "Just apparate over there! If you catch him doing something weird, I don't want to know!"

Hermione laughed, standing and pulling her shorter friend into a hug. "I'll withhold any inappropriate details, I promise. Okay, well, I'll talk to you soon. You know, you really ought to invest in a cellular phone. It is far more reasonably priced than long-distance flooing."

Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing at Hermione's perseverance on that matter. "You already know that I don't need a regular Muggle telephone let alone one of those fancy, tiny ones." She gave her friend another hug. "Alright, you'd best be going. Have fun. Write soon, I love hearing how things are going."

"I will," Hermione agreed immediately, "And you had better keep me up to date on things with Harry. That's far more interesting than the research I'm doing."

Ginny walked her to the door, sighing when she apparated away. For one split second, she doubted everything they'd just talked about, but she managed to shake the fear and worry off.

"I can do this," she whispered aloud. "Maybe something good will finally come after all of these years of waiting for him. Maybe."

~*~

Ron Weasley was having a visibly bad day; Harry could not help his smirk when he noticed that. Even though his anger at Ron had dulled to minor irritation, it was still amusing and just a little gratifying to see his best friend so flustered and out of sorts. George, on the other hand, was thriving in the boisterous environment of the joke shop.

"Harry, mate!" George called out with a grin and a wave. "Get your skinny ar – erm, _rear_ over here and lend a hand, will you? Can't rest on the laurels of being the Boy Who Triumphed forever, you know!"

Harry rolled his eyes at George, resisting the urge to throw an obscene gesture his way as he felt the eyes of all the customers slide onto him. "That's great, thanks a bunch, George," he muttered sarcastically, nodding towards Ron who seemed to sag in relief at being acknowledged.

George ignored his irritation, reaching out to grab and drag him behind the register. "Let's get this crowd out of here and then close for lunch. Ron, man the door and don't let anyone else in."

Ron nodded reluctantly, muttering under his breath about the stupidity of turning away midgets and their money, but still did as instructed. It took half an hour to clear everyone out, and for Harry, it could not have come a moment too soon. Honestly, this seemed to be far more exhausting than tracking dark wizards.

"How do you do that day in and day out?" Harry asked George as the last customer filed out the door. "It's bloody exhausting is what it is!"

"Eh, you get used to it, most of the time," Ron answered. "Eventually, you don't even feel tired at the end of the day. The little runts even grow on you after awhile."

George snorted at that. "Got the baby bug then, Ron? You better make sure Hermione is ready before you start buying nappies. Oh, and you may actually want to seal the deal with marriage, so Mum doesn't rip your head off."

Ron rolled his eyes as Harry got up to let the delivery boy from the Leaky Cauldron in and paid him for the food Ron had floo-ordered. "Of course I don't plan on bloody knocking her up. Besides, we aren't even ready to buy a house yet, so I know we aren't ready for a midget of our own."

"Hard to make a midget when she's halfway around the world anyway," Harry chimed in. "Probably not the most practical of times."

"She was here last night," Ron offered. "Said to tell you hello, mate. She wished she had time to see you, but it was an unplanned visit and she didn't have a lot of time."

George winked at Harry before turning towards Ron, asking, "Did you call her up and cry about being lonely? Poor, ickle Ronnikins, all by his little lonesome."

"No! I didn't even know she was coming since it was Ginny that she came to visit! That's who called her up with a sob story, not me," Ron muttered defensively.

"Is Gin okay?" Harry asked anxiously, dropping the sandwich he was holding back onto his plate. "Everything's okay, yeah?"

Ron scowled at that. "Hermione wouldn't even tell me what the bloody problem was. Can you believe that? All she'd say was that they had things to discuss, and that it was none of my business. None of my business indeed! My wife and my sister discussing Merlin knows what, and it isn't my business? How is it _not_ my business?"

George leaned toward Harry conspiratorially, whispering (loud enough for Ron to hear), "Well, you know he didn't say that to her, though. If he had, he'd be sporting boils or have been turned into dung or some such thing."

As Harry laughed his agreement, Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course I didn't say that to her! I'd be barmy to do that, and I hoped you get me a room next to Lockhart if I ever tried!"

"See George, I told you he isn't as dumb as he looks," Harry joked, feeling at ease with Ron again, much to his relief.

"Just mostly," George quipped, earning a thump on the arm from Ron. "Oi, that bloody hurt!"

"You had it coming," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich. "Anyway, it was weird. I've been begging her to come and visit or let me visit her for a month now, but the second Ginny needs her, she's here. How the bloody hell is that going to work?"

Harry cleared his throat, frowning. "Is everything really okay with Gin? I – Hermione would say if something were wrong, right?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm sure the golden girl is just fine," he scoffed. "She's the one George chose as his best man, after all."

"Don't start on that again, Ronald," George warned irritably, waving a sandwich in his younger brother's direction. "You know why I chose Gin, and you ought to shut it on the topic." He turned to Harry, who regarded the mischievous glint in his friend's eye warily. "Harry, m'boy, what's your great interest in Gin anyway? I didn't realize you worried so easily over her these days."

"Leave Harry alone," Ron unexpectedly (by Harry, at least) stepped in. "If he wants to worry about Ginny, we should be grateful. She can't have too many of us looking out for her."

Harry, who would've been happy to let it drop at that, groaned when George snickered. "Actually, I don't think he's so much looking out for her as he is looking at her. 'Bout time, I say!"

"Yeah, well, what if I am?" Harry snapped out, suddenly realizing that he didn't care anymore about anyone's opinion on the subject, save Ginny.

"What are you saying?" Ron asked, leaning back in his chair. "Are you – have you started fancying Ginny again?"

"If by fancy you mean crazy in love with and started you mean never stopped," Harry shrugged, "Then yeah, I fancy her again. That's just a pretty paltry term for what I feel."

Both George and Ron stared at him in naked surprise. "Are you serious, mate?" Ron gaped, hastily snapping his mouth shut when he realized it was hanging open. "You love Ginny?"

Sighing deeply, Harry reluctantly nodded in the affirmative. "Yes, I'm in love with your sister. Always have been, in fact. And do you want to know the funny part? I don't even care what you think about it. I don't care what either of you think about it, and I don't care what anyone else thinks of it either!"

"Do you care what Ginny thinks?" George asked, the corners of his mouth twitching up despite his attempts not to laugh. "She may have a thought or two on the subject."

"Of course I care what she thinks!" Harry exclaimed irritably. "She's the only one whose opinion matters to me. I just don't care what anyone else thinks anymore. I don't feel like we need approval."

George raised an eyebrow at that. "And what exactly does the fair Ginevra think about all of this?"

Harry blushed at that and shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. "She – well, I haven't told her yet. I'm actually trying to ease her in slowly to the idea." There was no way Harry would let them in on his real plan – at least not the physical parts of it. "I've been sitting on this for so long now, and maybe I've missed chance, but I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least try."

"So what's the plan?" George asked, a look of unholy glee on his face. "I could help. Lock you two up in a room together 'accidentally' and forget how to let you out. Oh, or slip her a truth lolly! Ron and I have been working on those, and they are about ready for testing! Two birds, one stone. Solid plan."

"Erm, that's okay," Harry demurred, glancing Ron's way. His best friend looked perplexed and not altogether happy, and it took Harry a moment to gather his resolve and remember not to care what anyone else thought about this. "I'd rather not have to trick her into anything. It'd be nice if she actually, you know, has an interest in me, too."

George rolled his eyes and laughed a bit at that. "If you don't know that Ginny has been head over heels in love with you since the first time she saw you, then you are about as hopeless as Ronnikins here is. And I really doubt – and hope – that that is not possible. Too scary to contemplate."

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, for once not bothering to tamp down on the hope that gripped his heart. "I don't want to make any assumptions. Besides, I haven't given her much reason to think of me that way, have I?"

Ron grunted, perhaps in agreement, but did not share his thoughts. George jumped back in, still grinning wildly. "When are you going to tell her? What are you going to say?"

"Bloody hell, George!" Harry laughed. "You sound like a fourth year girl!"

"Maybe I do," George agreed unapologetically, "But I don't even care. This is great, Harry! You and Ginny are perfect for each other, and you both deserve all the happiness in the world. I know you aren't looking for approval and I agree with you on that, but you've definitely got mine nonetheless." He shook his head. "Oi, Mum is going to be over the moon. I hope you're prepared for that."

Ron cleared his throat, nodding. "This is a good thing, Harry, I want both you and Ginny to be happy. Just promise that you mean all this, that it isn't another passing thing, and you'll be ditching her eventually."

Gaping at his friend, Harry shook his head as George looked on. "Ron, I've never ditched Ginny, and I certainly wouldn't now. That's not a very fair thing to ask."

"Sure it is," Ron argued calmly. "You ditched her after our sixth year, and that was really hard on her. That can't happen again; it wouldn't be fair to her."

"I didn't ditch her!" Harry countered hotly. "I broke up to protect her from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It wasn't because I wanted to ditch her! That was the last thing in the world I wanted. My time with her was the happiest time of my life."

"Well, you made her cry!" Ron yelled back as George's eyes swiveled back and forth between the two of them. "You made her cry, and Ginny never cries. Ever. She didn't cry after the Chamber, but she cried over you."

All the fight left Harry at that, and he sagged forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I didn't do that to hurt her, Ron. I thought she knew that."

"She did," George interjects solemnly. "She does. It's just – I think it still hurt, you know? But she understood even if she didn't like it."

"I never mean to hurt her. That's the last thing I wanted to do, but what other choice did I have? She was better off not being associated with me!"

"Yeah? What about after He was gone? You could have gone to her then," Ron challenged, "But no, you left her again." Harry flinched at the verbal blow and Ron sighed. "Look, Harry, I'd be as happy as anyone if you and Ginny were to work things out and end up together. I just want to know that you're serious this time because I don't want to see either of you hurt anymore."

Relaxing, Harry lifted his head to look Ron in the eye. "I'm completely, one hundred percent serious, Ron. I am so in love with her, and I have been since I was sixteen. I'm trying not to waste anymore time, and I want to get her before she's found someone new. I – I don't want to lose her."

Ron's face broke into a wide grin and George reached out to clap Harry on the back. "When are you going to tell her?" George asked. "Sooner the better, I say."

"I can't just blurt it out," Harry sighed. "Even I'm not that big of an arse. I want her to know that I'm serious and that I truly mean this. I want her to trust that this is real, and most of all, I don't want to make her feel trapped or obligated. I want her to want us, too."

"Mate, that's all she's ever wanted," George noted dryly while Ron snickered his agreement. "She probably wouldn't mind you blurting it out even."

"Leave him alone," Ron butted in. "Let him do it his way. Not every relationship is as easy to switch from strictly friends to romantic as yours and Katie's was, you know."

Harry shot him a grateful smile as George rolled his eyes. "That's rubbish and you only say that because it took you so long to tell Hermione how you felt."

Ron shrugged, not taking the least bit of offense to that statement. "Yeah, well, when it happened, we both knew where we stood and what we wanted. Made it a lot simpler that way. Anyway, what I was really saying is that we ought to let Harry do it his way. He and Ginny can figure out what works for them."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry replied, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. "Look, I think I'll just keep going about this how I have been so far. It seems like I'm making progress, so why mess with it, right?"

George grinned slyly at Harry. "And does that plan include continuing to drag her off into broom closets during family gatherings? Don't think I hadn't heard about that!"

Harry laughed as Ron gaped at him. "More like she dragged me into one! Besides, it wasn't like that; she was hiding from Wood. He's trying to get her to sigh with Puddlemere, and you know how he is – won't take 'no' for an answer."

"What?" Ron gasped indignantly, jumping out of his seat. "He can't do that! There are a lot of rules and protocols governing player transfers, and why would she go to Puddlemere, anyway? Everyone knows the Cannons are on the way up! If she were to leave the Harpies, then she should go to Chudley. Oh, I am going to have to discuss this with her!"

"Way to go, Harry!" George laughed gleefully. "You've set Ron on her! I hope you realize this won't do much to endear you to her in any way. No one wants to hear the 'How the Cannons are On the Upswing and Why You Should All Do Your Part to Support Their Glorious Ascension' speech."

Harry frowned at his best friend. "Right, Ron, you can't bother Ginny about that. I think she's really happy with the Harpies anyways, so it's most likely a moot point."

Ron didn't look pleased, but to Harry's relief he sat back down. "I just want to remind her of her rights as a player. And maybe remind her about loyalty and how the Cannons recruited her out of school but Puddlemere didn't."

"Look, I'll talk to her about it," Harry sighed, not feeling the need to deal with anymore inadvertent collateral damage caused by Ron. "Besides, you know Gin won't let herself be pushed into anything she doesn't want, so I don't think there is anything to worry about. Plus, Ron, if you'd just kind of, erm, lay low, I'd really appreciate it." At that, George chokes back a laugh as Ron stares at Harry, perplexed. "It's just you already made that awful bet with her and sometimes she takes things you say or do the wrong way. I just want to avoid any further problems."

"And you think I'd cause problems?" Ron asked, scowling irritably. "Is that why you were so mad at me?"

"Quick to catch on as he ever was," George muttered out of the side of his mouth to Harry, an unabashed grin on his face.

Harry ignored George, instead keeping his focus on Ron. "Yeah, Ron. That really put me in a bind, you know? Gin is just stubborn enough to follow through to prove something to you, and I – I can't handle losing her. I know I screwed up after the Final Battle and I lost that chance, but I have to try now and I need you to stay out of it. Please."

George nodded his agreement immediately. "Of course, mate. Discretion is the word. Just so you know, Fred and I – well, we always figured it would be you. In fact, I can't imagine it being anyone else. You're good for her, and she's bloody brilliant for you."

Harry smiled his thanks as George excused himself and went to the back storeroom. Once they were alone, he turned to Ron. "What about you, Ron? What do you think?"

"Ah, hell, Harry. You know I think that there is no one better for either of you, and I really hope it works out this time."

"Glad to hear it," Harry acknowledged with a genuine smile. "I wouldn't have changed my mind if you hated it, but I'm really glad that you aren't opposed to this." He leaned forward, regarding Ron carefully. "What were you on about, Ron? Why would you push her like that and goad her into such a stupid bet? If you really thought that I was the best man for her, why would you do that?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably, but to his credit he maintained eye contact. "Look, Harry. I knew you cared about Gin, but after awhile I thought you'd lost _that_ kind of interest in her. She just seems so lonely sometimes, and she's fun to tease. Look, I'm sorry, and I'll say that to Gin, too. Erm, after, of course."

"Yeah," Harry nodded with a grimace. "I guess that makes sense. That's gonna be the hard part in all this, you know? Proving to her that I won't do that again. I just – that was a bad place I was in after the Final Battle. Then when I was back and doing better, I didn't know how to approach her. I didn't figure she still thought of me that way."

"I bet she'll come right around," Ron encouraged. "George was right in saying that it has always been you for her."

Harry managed a wan smile. "I hope so. I really, really hope so.

~*~

Ginny sat bolt upright in bed, moving only to reach out and grab her wand off the bedside table. Take a deep breath, she strained to hear and identify whatever sound it was that awakened her. She gasped softly as she heard the sound of footsteps in her kitchen.

Not even paying attention to the fact that she was clad only in a pair of pink panties and a very tiny green tank top, Ginny tiptoed towards her bedroom door. She pulled it open slowly, holding her breath and praying that the door wouldn't squeak or do anything else to give her away. She crept silently down the hall as she tried not to think of all the creepy and disgusting reasons that someone might be in her flat.

Just as she was nearing the kitchen, she heard the distinct sound of humming. Frowning and relaxing her death grip on her wand, she peeked around the corner. Her jaw dropped at the sight of Harry Potter rummaging through her refrigerator. Her wand slipped through her slackened grip, clattering against the wood floor.

Harry glanced up at the noise, his eyes widening as he took her – and her lack of clothing – in. "Hey Gin. It's Saturday."

"But I – did I know you were coming?" she asked, unable to tear her gaze away from his. "You scared me, Harry! How did you even get in here?"

"You have crap wards," he answered grimly, avoiding her first question. "It was quite easy to get in here; I think we should do something about that. I don't like how easy it was for me to get in here, Gin. Honestly, if your mother knew, she'd have a fit. I'm truly surprised that Bill and Fleur didn't ward this place up for you."

She tapped her foot impatiently, brushing aside his concerns with a wave of her hand. "Fine, fine, you can fix them if you think it is necessary. But Harry, _what_ are you doing here at nine in the morning?"

He grinned at that, gesturing around the kitchen as he did his best to keep his eyes above her shoulders. She could tell that was not easy for him. "I'd never welch on a bet with you, Ginevra. I'm here to pay up and treat you to the best breakfast of your life."

"Wow, that's quite the promise," Ginny smiled in return, waking up enough to flirt back. "Are you certain you can make good on that? I'd hate for your performance to under whelm in any way."

Harry swallowed hard as she approached, and she inwardly cheered when his cheeks brightened in a pink blush. She was definitely honest enough with herself to admit that she liked – no, loved, delighted in, thrilled on – having such an effect on him. There was definitely something very powerful and womanly in that, and the way he was looking at her left her feeling giddy and breathless.

He took a deep breath and reached out a hand to settle on her shoulder, and it was her turn to blush as his fingers trailed lightly over her skin. "Hey Gin?" he murmured, stepping so close that she'd just have to lean forward a fraction of an inch for full body contact. "I thought the expression was 'heart on your sleeve'."

"Huh?" was her intelligent reply. When he glanced meaningfully down with a smirk, her eyes followed and she let out a small squeak at the red heart front and center on her underwear before turning and fleeing for her bedroom. She only stopped long enough to pick her wand up off the floor. "Oh, my goodness," she muttered to herself, "He saw my panties. Harry bloody Potter saw my panties."

She flopped facedown on her unmade bed groaning loudly. She knew her face was a flaming red, and she willed herself to calm down. Wasn't this sort of what she wanted? If the look on his face was anything to go by, it wasn't that much of a hardship for him to see it, so what was she so embarrassed about? If she was going to do as she'd promised Hermione and get over herself enough to be open to this, then why not actively pursue it, at least a little?

Grinning to herself with more confidence, she got up off the bed and padded over to her dresser. If he thought she would be waiting under the covers for him in head to toe flannel, he had another thing come. After pulling out an old quidditch t-shirt of Harry's from the drawer, she set her bed to rights with a quick wave of her wand. She quickly stripped off her tank top next and pulled on the shirt from his third year, wondering how long it would take him to realize whose it once had been. After fixing her hair and fussing with her appearance for a second, she turned to the bed.

She leaned the pillows up against the headboard before situating herself against them. She considered grabbing a book or her Harpies playbook, but decided she didn't care if she looked pathetically eager since she was in fact just that. Just as she was about to give in to her impatience and go check on him, the door swung open admitting him and a large tray of food.

"Finally," she breathed happily, taking in the heavily laden tray (complete with a red rose in a bud vase) with wide eyes. "Harry, you've made enough for Ron! I hope you didn't think I eat that much!"

"Actually, I was kind of hoping that if I made enough, you would invite me to join you," he admitted shyly which only served to endear to him to her even more. Who knew that would be possible? He set the tray down next to her, grinning as she patted the spot on her other side. "That my invitation then?"

She laughed, nodding her head. "Yes, now get over here and tell me what everything is. Some of this looks like pudding!"

Settling down beside her so close that their arms and legs are touching, he settled back against the pillow. "I know I promised your favorites, but I was watching this cooking show on the telly, and – "

"Cooking show?" Ginny echoed as her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah," he laughed as he handed her a plate. "It's sort of a demonstration that teaches recipes and such. I was flipping past one that had breakfast items, and since I knew I needed to do something special for you, I watched."

She nearly swooned at the sentiment. "Well, I'd say that you have more than succeeded," she beamed, lightly bumping her shoulder into his side. "Aside from the fact that you nearly gave me a heart attack with the breaking and entering, this is really lovely, Harry. Thank you so much."

Harry fairly beamed at the praise although it was tempered by the bright blush on his cheeks. "You don't have to thank me for this. You earned it fair and square, and anyway, I think the benefits that I'm reaping are far superior," he smirked, glancing down to where her bare leg rested against his denim-clad one.

She knew that he was trying to elicit a blush from her, but she just smiled and looked at the food. "So, tell me what we have here."

"Oh, well, as you can see, what we have here is clearly very fancy," Harry intoned dramatically, earning a giggle from Ginny. "Aside from the bacon and eggs, we have French toast stuffed with strawberry crème and garnished with fresh strawberries on top. I know you like strawberries, and I figured that this would be a nice treat. Hopefully it turned out okay. I've been practicing the last couple of nights."

And just like that, she plummeted further into the Harry love pit she'd been falling into for half her life. Godric, he was absolutely perfect, and in that moment she resolved, despite her insecurities, to go after this. She wanted Harry, and she wanted a life with him. In that moment, it was so perfectly crystal clear that no one else could ever mean this much to her or make her so happy with such a small gesture that was really so much more.

She balanced her plate on her leg and grabbed his free hand in hers. "This is wonderful, Harry. It looks and smells wonderful, but even if it tastes awful, it would still be wonderful. I'm just so glad to have this time to spend with you. That is what really makes it wonderful."

"I can't argue with that, but I still hope that the food is edible," he winked, squeezing her hands before releasing them. "Here, give me your plate and I'll serve you."

"You don't have to do that," she laughed, a little overwhelmed by the attention. In fact, I should probably be serving you since you went to all this trouble."

"It's not trouble for you, Gin," Harry countered quickly and firmly. "This is…it's as much for me as it is for you, in some ways, and wow, that sounds selfish." She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when he shook his head. "No, it's just that my job is depressing sometimes and hard the rest of the time. This is a really nice escape for me, being here with you. I have fun when I'm with you and I feel good and most importantly, you don't try and make me talk about work, but you listen when I do want to talk about it. I'm sure I've never told you because I'm a total prat, but it means a lot to me."

She shifted so that she was facing him, her knees resting against his leg. "I'm really glad that you know I'm here for you, Harry. However you need." She set her hand on his thigh, offering him a wry smile. "Ron and Hermione both the ability to be incredibly…well, pushy, sometimes. They both mean well, but neither are good at giving space when they think they know what is for the best." She wrinkled her nose in remembrance. "Did you know that all throughout my second year, Hermione would just stare expectantly at me, waiting for me to tell her about Tom and the diary. She never really accepted that I didn't want to talk about it. Funnily enough, she's the same now."

Harry laughed, picking up the hand on his thigh and holding it in his own. "They both are. And they are great friends, but sometimes talking about the bad things doesn't help. Sometimes you just need something good to counter it. I'm so glad you're willing to be my good."

"Anytime." She smiled, although she really wanted to blurt out that she would be his everything, if he wanted. Shaking that thought out of her head, she picked up her plate and cut a bite of French toast, taking care to get a strawberry. "Here, take a bite. If it doesn't kill you, I'll give it a go myself."

He pouted at her, but dutifully took the proffered bite. "Well, I'm still living," he shrugged. "I think you'll be fine."

Ginny laughed as she speared another bite onto her fork. His eyes followed the fork all the way to her mouth, watching her reaction closely. "Mmm, Harry! This is delicious! How are you not cooking breakfast for me all the time?"

Harry beamed, delighted that she was enjoying it. "You really like it then? Your mum is a tough one to keep up with in the kitchen department, and everything I've eaten that you've made has been wonderful. I wasn't sure if anything I did could compare."

"Oh, it's very good," she promised, taking another bite. "Honestly, Harry. With cooking skills like this, you could get any girl in the world."

He sort of shrugged that assertion off, to her amusement. "I don't want any girl in the world," he said quietly, "And I kind of keep hoping that the one I do want likes me for more than my cooking ability which does not extend beyond breakfast, by the way."

She was so tempted to push him a little, but thinking on her conversation with Hermione, she decided that she would let him do this in his own time and way. Providing it didn't take too long, of course. "Just breakfast? You'll have to find a Muggle cooking show that can teach you dinner, then." She took another bite of the French toast. "Of course, there are two other options."

"Take away?" he asked cheekily, picking up a piece of bacon.

"Not likely," Ginny laughed, grabbing a piece of the bacon for herself. "I was going to say that you could eat this for every meal, as it is absolutely scrumptious or you could come over here for hands on cooking lessons."

His eyes brightened at that, and he grinningly poured her a cup of tea. "Those both sound like great ideas, but I think, if you really meant it, that I'd prefer the latter."

"Of course I meant it!" was her enthusiastic reply. "I think we'd have a lot of fun. You know, we haven't seen much of each other the last couple of years, and I've really enjoyed spending time with you recently. It's been really great, and if I have to bribe you with meals to get it to continue, well, I'm not above that."

"I don't think a bribe is necessary, but cooking lessons and dinner certainly do the trick. And Gin? I – I'm really glad we are spending time together, too. I just have such a good time when I'm with you." He paused, glancing down at the shirt she had on. "Hey, was that my shirt?"

She just smiled brightly at him, offering him another bite of the French toast from her fork. "Me too, Harry." She teasingly pulled the fork back before he could get the bite. He growled playfully as he leaned into and over her, his mouth open in expectation as she started giggling before giving in and allowing him the bite. "Good?"

He nodded slowly in response to her question. Unable to tear her gaze away from his, she wordlessly offered him another bite, her eyes riveted to his mouth when he accepted it, licking a bite of the strawberry crème from the corner of his lips. "Gin?" he murmured quietly. "May I ask you something? It's kind of personal, so if you don't want to answer, I would understand."

"You can ask me anything, Harry. I'm sure I won't mind."

Harry nodded, pausing for a moment before awkwardly blurting out, "How long do you plan to play quidditch?"

She quirked an eyebrow up at that as she smiled curiously. "That's not exactly a personal question. I suppose I'll play until I have a reason to stop."

"What would be a good reason to stop?" he asked, his eyes intent on her face.

"Oh," she breathed out slowly, settling back into the cushy pillows. "I suppose that's a little more personal, but it is an easy question. The best reason, for me, would be having a family. I mean, I don't want to be just like my mum and not work, but quidditch is not a good profession for a mother. I'd want to devote myself to my family without worrying about travel and injuries and all the other things."

He nodded, a small, satisfied smile on his face. She wanted to respond in kind or perhaps jump on him and express her love, but she again strengthened her resolve to let this whole thing happen at Harry's pace. He initiated it, so they'd do it his way and she'd be happy about it.

Deciding not to let him get away with too much, she nudged him with her foot as she asked, "What about you? Would anything get you to give up some of your more dangerous missions and cases?"

Harry shrugged, but looked surprised to have the question thrown back at him. "I don't know," he admitted. "The only thing I'd consider it for would be a family, but at the same time I wonder if having that family would make me feel even more compelled to do more to make the world safer for them. Then again, I wouldn't want my wife or child to end up all alone like me."

"Oh, Harry, you are not alone," she breathed out slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "You have so many people who love and adore you and would gladly welcome you into their family. You're already as good as a Weasley, you know. You are one of us, and you get all the good and the bad that comes with that."

"It's only good," he chuckled, his breath warm and tickly on the side of her neck. He hugged her back tightly as he tried hard not to notice (too much) the feel of her silky skin and hair or the heat of her bare legs where they rested against his. "Your whole family has been far too good to me since the day I met you. It's just…not the same, you know? I've just never felt whole, and I think it's because I don't have a family of my own. That's probably a little ridiculous and a lot maudlin since I've never known anything else, right?"

To his own regret, she pulled back and put a little distance between them. "It isn't either of those things at all, Harry, and even if it were, you are entitled to your feelings." She paused, taking a deep breath and pasting on a bright, mischievous smile. "I think this is pretty much a moot point anyway. I know that you'll have that family any time now. After all, you've got Hero's pick of the ladies now."

He rolled his eyes, entirely missing the playful look on her face. "It's not like I want just anyone, though. In fact, I only want – erm, never mind," he cut off in a hot blush.

To his great relief, she didn't press him any further. Instead, she leaned forward and stated in earnest, "You'll get everything you want, Harry. I have absolutely no doubt of that. You just have to take it."

"You know," he smiled widely, leaning forward to brush a kiss over her cheek, "Hearing you say that helps. It kind of makes me feel better knowing that you think it will happen for me. That means a lot."

"I'm not the only one who believes you deserve the best, you know. And I'm certainly not the only one who wants it for you either," she reminded him, willfully not adding that she want it for him especially if it were with her.

They fell into lighter conversation after that as they continued to eat, playfully debating the Harpies' chance at the league title. They laughed at Ron's plight with Hermione, chatted about how big Victoire was getting, and talked about George and Katie's upcoming wedding. Ginny had a marvelous time sitting and laughing on her bed with Harry, and she was sure he liked it as much as she did. Once breakfast was finished, Ginny did the dishes while Harry brought down her old wards and put up new ones to ensure her safety.

All in all, this felt so right to her, and when Harry reluctantly took his leave early that afternoon, the piece of her that he took with him was larger than ever.


	5. Ginny's Best Laid Plan

A/N: Surprise, new chapter already! Shocking to say the least, I know. Anyway, I wanted to thank those of you who took the time to leave your thoughts after part four. I really appreciate it and thank you for your kind words. And yes, I'm trying my hardest to keep plugging away and finish this story in a timely fashion.

**Part Five – **_**Ginny's Best Laid Plan**_

Harry Potter was having the longest week of his life. The recruits he was tasked with training seemed to grow dumber by the hour, Ron was being a nuisance with his suggestions on how to handle things, George had slipped him a long-lasting Berry Bear that turned him into a koala for several hours and to top it all off, he hadn't seen Ginny since Saturday. Of course, when his foul mood lifted a tiny bit, he could admit that his irritation with the other things were certainly compounded by the last of those.

The breakfast they'd shared in – well, fine, _on_ – Ginny's bed was nothing short of heaven, but considering he hadn't heard from her since (aside from a very sweet and very appreciative thank you owl), he was a little worried that she didn't feel the same. It wasn't unusual for them to go awhile without speaking, but of course that was before he'd started his pursuit by finally admitting his feelings to himself. He thought that all was going well and that Ginny was enjoying their time together as well, but maybe he'd misread her thoughts and feelings on the matter.

Groaning in utter frustration, he threw his quill down on his desk as he again cursed the trainees for their ineptitude. They couldn't even write their reports up correctly. Sighing, he rolled his eyes at himself. There really was no cause for him to be acting this way, and the fact of the matter was that he had not contacted Ginny either, even in response to her thank you owl. Some days, he just didn't know what his problem was.

He straightened up in his chair, mentally preparing himself to focus on the work in front of him. He got through a few more reports before a commotion outside his door interrupted his thoughts. Somewhat grateful for the distraction, he got up and opened the door. There he found, surrounded by several trainees and (sadly, in Harry's opinion) several senior aurors, the woman who would not leave his thoughts.

"Harry! Hi," she exclaimed (in relief, maybe?) when she caught sight of him in the door frame. "I've, erm, been meeting your colleagues. Would you believe they're all avid Harpies fans? Anyway, I'm here to see you, if you have a few moments, of course."

"Oi, Potter, if you haven't got the time, I certainly do," Franz MacMillan, a first year trainee, offered up as he eyed Ginny far too lewdly, in Harry's opinion. Harry disliked him as much as he'd disliked his pompous older cousin at Hogwarts.

He shot the younger man a particularly withering look, and they all seemed to take heed as they backed off slightly. Harry was please when Ginny moved to his side, smiling up at him in relief. He rested his hand on her lower back as he guided her into his office. "Thank you all for your assistance in escorting Miss Weasley to my office, but you should probably get back to work now."

All six of them turned to leave, although MacMillan and one of the senior aurors shot glares at him over their shoulders. Harry ignored them as he shut the door to his office to give them some privacy. He glanced at Ginny as she a basket he hadn't noticed she was carrying down on an unused corner of his messy desk. "You alright? I don't know what got into that lot."

"It's as if they'd never seen a woman before," she chuckled while rolling her eyes. "Rather smarmy, the bunch of them." She paused, glancing up at him shyly. "I hope it's alright that I've stopped by without warning. I don't want to cause problems for you, Harry."

"Believe me, you are more than welcome here, at my house, anywhere that I am whenever you want," he assured her fervently. "I'm glad you've stopped by, actually."

She watched him, almost as though she were waiting for him to expound on that, but responded when she realized he wasn't going to add anything. "Well, thanks, I'm glad you feel that way." She paused, gesturing at the basket she had set down. "I brought lunch. You probably have plans which is completely understandable, but if you don't…"

"I don't!" he quickly exclaimed. "That is to say, thanks. This is really nice of you, Gin. As you can imagine, I usually just end up down at one of the pubs to fill up on chips. I'm sure this will be far better."

"It actually comes with a condition," she warned, a mischievous glint in her eye. He cocked up an eyebrow at that. "I need a favor. It's actually, erm, in regards to George's bachelor party."

He laughed aloud at the fiery blush gracing her cheeks. "A favor regarding a bachelor party? Now, Gin, I know you've probably never been to one before, but the stripper is usually a lady. So I can't be of much help in that regard."

She joined in with her own laughter, reaching out to smack him on the chest playfully. "You're not quite as funny as you think, Harry James!" She dissolved into giggles as he just grinned unrepentantly at her. "Anyway, I really do need your help. It's just that George wants this part to be absolute insanity with the best of everything including strippers. And I'm supposed to, as best man, pick out the strippers. And Fred would've done all this so easily, so I want to give as much of that to George as possible, and I don't want to wreck this for him!"

His eyes were wide as she finished up her diatribe. "I reckon you should relax just a little bit about all of this. I'm sure George wouldn't expect or want you to freak out because of the bachelor party, right?" She shrugged tiredly. "You're doing fine, Gin, but if you think you need help, I'll do anything you need. Of course I will."

"Thank you," she breathed, beaming a bright smile that held all the gratitude he could ever need. "You don't know how much that means to me." When she threw her arms around him in a tight hug, he whispered his 'you're welcome' in her ear. She pulled back, perching on the arm of the chair reserved for guests. "I need help picking out the strippers."

Maybe it was the matter-of-fact way she said it or perhaps it was just the words themselves, but something in it threw him for a loop. "You want _me_ to help _you_ pick out a stripper? I – Gin, it's just that I don't think I'm the most qualified bloke around for something like that. Couldn't you just floo-call in an order?"

She harrumphed in exasperation. "Well, you'd think so, wouldn't you? But George has been dropping hints the past two weeks that it is the duty of the best man to visually inspect the 'goods' prior to selecting the very best. I can't just walk into a strip club by myself. This is my dad's fault, you know. Always filling our heads with Muggle ideas – go figure that this is one that George would find out about. Any normal wizard would just go to the club when he wanted to see something like this."

Harry snickered at that. "Well, that sounds about right. Couldn't you get Charlie or Bill to go with you? Seems like they'd be well-qualified for something like this."

"Harry! I can't go there with one of my brothers! This whole thing is mortifying enough as it is, and there is no way I'd go into one of those places with any one of my brothers! That's too disturbing to contemplate!"

"And so you came to the conclusion that I'd be a good person to ask to accompany you?" Harry asked, unsure if he should be flattered she'd ask for him or just relieved that she didn't think of him as another brother. "As embarrassing as it is to admit, I'm really not qualified for this, Gin."

She shrugged carelessly, opening the basket to pull out a huge bowl of treacle tart. "Well, you certainly have more qualifications than I do, and I – I just that we could do this and it wouldn't muck up our – things between us."

'Things between them'? Harry stifled the urge to ask her for clarification as to what exactly that meant. "Well, I guess I could go with you. I'd hate to send you off alone, and I can see how it would be awkward to go with one of your brothers."

"And I trust you, Harry," she added earnestly, prompting the beast in his chest to roar to life in a prideful burst. "It'll be weird, but I know you won't make it any weirder than necessary."

He accepted the plate of food that she'd put together for him, smirking at her. "Haven't you heard the rumors? I'm a pretty weird guy, Gin."

Ginny rolled her eyes at that as she brushed her long tresses over her shoulder. "Honestly, Harry. I think that I, as your friend, am in a far better position to judge your level of weirdness. And you are just the right amount of weird for me," she teased, her smile wide and genuine.

"Thanks for that," he chuckled, digging in to the food. "Gin, this is really good!"

"You didn't think my mother let me escape all attempts at domesticity, did you? She's declared me hopeless in the garden, but I still had to learn to cook."

He gave her an indulgent smile. "Well, you aren't bad at anything else, so I guess your lack of skill in the garden can be overlooked."

She quirked an eyebrow up at that. "And just what is your great flaw, Harry Potter?"

Harry almost answered that his greatest flaw was inherent stupidity, as evidenced by ever letting her go, but he did not say that. "I think that I have far too many great flaws to choose from," he shrugged, a chagrined smile on his face. "What would you say it was?"

"Oh, well, that would be telling," she laughed, adding loftily. "Besides, you are perfect in every way, Harry Potter. I couldn't possibly find fault with you."

"Lay it on just a little thicker, yeah?" he grinned. "You could at least peg me as a moody git. I've been called that often enough."

"You were moody, back at Hogwarts, but it's not like you didn't have your reasons, Harry," she excused. "We all knew it was just an unfortunate by-product of the things you were going through and all that you knew was ahead of you."

He shrugged that off. "I was still a berk to those of you I care about more than was right. I didn't do a very good job of handling those pressures sometimes. I'm sorry."

She stood up, moving to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. "Stop feeling guilty for things that aren't even relevant anymore. Harry, we all understood then, and we all understand now, too. We didn't always like it, and it was hard to deal with sometimes, but we did understand where it was coming from."

"I guess that's good then," he smiled, hugging her just as tight before reluctantly letting her go. "So, when does this – this thing we have to do need to be done?"

"You mean when you escort me to the gentlemen's club so you can tell me which of the strippers you blokes prefer for the party? Well, I was hoping we could do it today when you get off work."

He laughed at that, shaking his head vigorously. "Oh, no, I'm not picking anything. I – I'll just be there as your moral support."

She poked him in the side in mock exasperation. "I don't need moral support; I need a male eye! I need you to pick out the most, I don't know, appealing girls so I know who to hire!"

"Trust me, the most appealing girl there will not be on the stage," he said earnestly, looking at her intently. "Besides, I wasn't kidding when I said that I wasn't the most qualified wizard for this." He glanced down at the ground. "I'm not – well, I haven't – see, the thing is – "

"I understand," she mercifully interrupted. She also managed to not outright laugh at him, which was also greatly appreciated. "But you do have the experience of being male and therefore have at least some experience in gazing at and evaluating the female form. That's all I need you to do in this. Gaze and evaluate."

He groaned, shooting her his best pout. "Come on, Gin, this is a lot of pressure. I'm not really sure if I can handle it!"

Ginny laughed, shaking her head. "You are better at handling pressure than anyone else I know and are certainly the most experienced at it. You'll be brilliant."

Recognizing that there was no chance she'd be letting him out of this, Harry sighed and gave a reluctant nod. Watching other women dance around as they removed their clothing with Ginny at his side did not seem conducive to his plan of winning her love, but if she wanted him there, then there he'd be.

"Well, let's go now, then," he sighed in resignation. "We're going to have to stop for a glass or two of firewhiskey; I need some kind of fortification before doing this."

"Alright," she conceded with a slightly nervous giggle. Good, he was glad that he wasn't the only one who felt the awkwardness of this situation. It was only fair that what they were going to do would be bothersome to her, too. "I'll even buy, Harry."

He grinned at that. "Sounds like a good idea to me!"

~*~

It was _not_ a good idea, she realized an hour – and several glasses of firewhiskey each – later. Not only was the alcohol _not_ removing any of her reservations about having to watch Harry ogle other women while they picked out George's strippers, but it was killing some of her personal space inhibitions as well. She could not seem to keep her grabby hands off of Harry. And that was surely going to be a problem at some point.

"We sou – _should_ get going," Harry pointed out, slurring only a little. "Before it gets crowed in there. I don't want you in there with the drunk after-work crowd. They're rough, and you'd be very tempting to them."

She giggled at that, soaking in his protectiveness of her. "How do you know there is a drunk after-work crowd?" she asked teasingly, her fingers curling around his bicep.

He smiled back, if not a little grimly. "Dudley. He used to talk about that kind of thing all the time. Couldn't avoid hearing about it even if I wanted to."

"I'm sorry you ever had to spend even a single moment with those awful people," she whispered fervently, her fingers now stroking up and down his arm. "You deserve so much better."

"I have so much better now," he assured her, lifting a hand up to cover hers. "Gin, I wanted to tell you – oh, bloody hell!" She swiveled in her seat to see what he was glaring at over her shoulder. "We need to sneak out of here now. See that man in the fedora?" She nodded. "He's a reporter for the Prophet; worse than Skeeter. I really don't want to deal with him today, and he'd drag you into it, too."

Ginny nodded her immediate agreement, placing her hand (and trust) in his. He tugged her to him, and a second later she felt the tight squeeze of apparation. "How often do you have to do something like that? Just up and leave a place, I mean," she asked curiously.

He sighed, glancing down at the ground. "More than I care to. Most of the others aren't too bad. If I tell them that I have nothing to say, they usually leave it at that. This guy doesn't. He's one of the worst, actually."

She nodded absently, glancing around the room. "Where are – oh, is this…your bedroom?"

Harry flushed a deep red as he nodded. "Sorry, it was the first place that came to mind. We can go downstairs now. That'd probably be a good idea."

She arched a brow up at that. "You got a fairly good look around my room; shouldn't I get to look around in here? Fair is fair, Harry," she reminded him prettily.

"Oh, well, of course," he nodded, looking around hastily. She stifled a giggle as he kicked a pair of pants under the bed. "Erm, it's not really that exciting of a room. It doesn't look nice, like yours does."

Ginny laughed at that, hoping to set him more at ease. "Mine doesn't look nice – it looks girly. My mum picked most of the things out, and she was so upset that I wasn't going to stay at the Burrow that I didn't have the heart to argue with her. But I suppose it isn't so bad."

Harry watched her intently as she sat down on the edge of his bed. "You're a good daughter, Ginevra Weasley."

"Well, I try," she smiled, feeling far more sober with the knowledge that she was in Harry's room, on his _bed_. "It's, um, a nice bed. Squishy."

She knew her face was dangerously hot as he stared at her with barely concealed hunger. She remembered how she had felt seeing him in her bed and she wondered if he felt that same rightness she had felt. Not completely sure if she was taking the right tact, she scooted further back onto the bed and flopped backwards when she hit the middle of it.

Keeping her eyes focused on him, she got to see him swallow hard and briefly close his eyes as he tried to gather himself. She knew it wasn't fair, but if this gave Harry the push he needed to finally tell her how he felt, the it would be worth it.

"We, ah, should go – go do that thing we were going to do," Harry nervously reminded her. "Or at least have another drink, yeah?"

Ginny blinked up at him in surprise. "I don't know that I care that much anymore about the quality of the entertainment," she admitted, trying not to stare too longingly up at him. "I wouldn't mind something to eat, though. We left the picnic basket at your office, and I didn't have anything out of it."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes widening comically when Ginny lifted her arms above her head and stretched languorously. "Why don't we go down and get something then?"

Oh, how she wanted to suggest he just summon some biscuits so they could stay there on his bed, but she didn't want to completely scare him off. So, she nodded her agreement and held a hand out. Chuckling at her mock helpless look, he nonetheless clasped her tiny hand in his and pulled her up and to the edge of the bed. She had to crane her neck back to look up at him, and she was close enough to wrap her arms around his middle and…well, do many naughty, naughty things, but she wasn't quite that brave.

"Harry? Why do you stay here at Grimmauld Place? You don't seem to like it much, and if you'd be happier elsewhere, then you should go. Sirius would want you to be happy, not miserable in a place that he hated."

"Yeah, I know," he agreed, smiling at her as she stood and wrapped her fingers around his arm. He was more than happy to escort her down to the kitchen like this. "I don't know why I keep it, honestly. I suppose a part of it is this is the last bit of Sirius that I have, but I think more of it is that I want to fix it. I want to get rid of all the things that he hated about this place and fill it with light and sunshine and objects that are safe for children. It should be a home, not a prison. Maybe that's how I can honor Sirius."

"You are an amazing godson," Ginny smiled brightly up at him. "That's a wonderful thing, Harry. I think it is a brilliant idea, and if you ever need help, I am happy to do whatever you need." She refrained from specifying that she'd provide him with the children, if he'd like. "Have you done much work yet?"

"No, not much yet," he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I'm not sure what to do, you know? So I don't want to start, make a big mess, and then realize I've gone about it all wrong."

"You'll do fine," she smiled. "I've known you a long time now, and there is almost nothing that you don't have great instincts about. There is no reason why this would be any different."

"Thank you for saying that," he chuckled as they walked into the kitchen. "Maybe you could help me with ideas. Or choosing colors and such. I'm rubbish at those things, and I – I'd like your opinions."

She beamed at that, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Yes, that's quite true. It's always marvelous when you make it out of the house in colors that actually correspond to one another. Honestly, Harry; no matter what Ron says, it isn't appropriate to wear a Cannons hat with a green jumper." She scrunched her nose up as she thought further on that. "For that matter, it really is never appropriate to wear a Cannons hat. Now, the Harpies…"

Harry grinned at her, guiding her to a chair. "Sit, I'll get you a glass of water and some biscuits."

"Could I be a bother and get some tea instead?" she asked as she pulled her legs up to her chest. "I think that may better combat the firewhiskey."

"Of course you can," he nodded, exchanging the water glass for tea cups and moving towards the cupboard where he kept his tea supply. She smiled at his back as he quickly and efficiently set the water to boiling. "Are you hungry? I can fix us something to eat. More substantial than biscuits, I mean."

She dropped her feet to the ground, standing up. "Why don't you let me fix something? You can sit back and tell me what you were thinking of doing around here. Maybe we could brainstorm a bit, make a list of ideas."

"Are you sure? I'd really appreciate that, Gin," Harry grinned. He made his way over to where she stood, stopping to press a lingering kiss to her cheek, nearly brushing the corner of his mouth with hers. "Let me run and grab a quill and some parchment so I can write things down. You can use absolutely anything you can find in here." He kisses her cheek again, and this time the corners of their mouths do brush. "Thank you, Ginevra."

"For what?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes wide and entranced.

"For cooking for me, for helping me think up ideas…for not dragging me to a seedy club to watch dancers with you." She laughed at that, always delighted by Harry's sense of humor. "For being wonderful and _you_ and being here, with me."

Her face lit up in a smile as she looked up at him. "I love being here with you," she said, comfortable with complete honesty. The smile he gave her as he slowly backed out of the kitchen was so bright and awed that it hurt her heart just a little. She returned it with one of her own, but once he was out of sight, she allowed a few tears to slide down her cheeks.

She hated how infrequently he smiled like that and how he always seemed shocked when he had cause for one. She hated his relatives, who contributed so greatly to his low sense of self-worth and his difficulties in letting himself be happy. But she loved that those people and those circumstances did not completely take that away from him. He still had that in him, and she vowed to do her best to bring it out whenever possible.

Hastily she brushed away the tears and busied herself rummaging through his refrigerator and pantry thinking that it would do no good to let him see her upset. She pulled out what she needed and was beginning to get things started when Harry returned. "Look at you," he teased as he took a seat at the table. "I should hire you as my own personal chef. Or instead of writing down ideas for the house, have you give me a lesson."

"You know, I'd been thinking of hiring you to be my _personal_ chef," she smiled over her shoulder at him. "That breakfast you made was absolutely delectable, Harry. And don't worry about it, I'll teach you some other time. We'll just brainstorm today."

"Yeah, it was pretty good, wasn't it?" he agreed, laughing when she threw a hand towel at him. "Hey! I'm a genius with breakfast foods. Don't get snippy because I'm far superior to you in that realm."

Ginny just smiled as she set a pot of water on the stove to boil for pasta. "So, what kinds of changes did you have in mind so far?"

Harry grinned up at her when she set a cup of tea in front of him, stopping to squeeze a drizzle of honey into it. "As I've emptied the house of all dark artifacts, including that blasted portrait, I guess the first thing that would need to be done is the repairs. There are quite a few things that just plain need fixing and several others that I would like to have updated."

"Like what?" she prodded, throwing out suggestions as he explained what need repairs and what he'd like to see improved upon. As they talked, he wrote everything down and by the time dinner was ready, he had a good list of ideas and possible solutions.

"That looks amazing," he complimented as she set a plate down in front of him. "I may have to keep you here with me forever if everything you make is this good."

"Maybe I'd let you," she flirted back to his surprise, winking as she uncorked the bottle of wine she'd found. Once that was taken care of, she grabbed her own plate and sat down in the seat adjacent to his. She was close enough that her right leg now brushed against his left whenever one of them moved.

They talked and laughed as they ate; Ginny recounting the success of the new chaser formation the Harpies were practicing and Harry relating his Sunday with Teddy in Diagon Alley. Ginny spent a lot of her own time with the little boy, but she was still caught off-guard when Harry suggested they visit him together soon.

"Are you sure, Harry?" she asked somewhat anxiously. "I know how important those visits are to both of you, and I don't want to get in the way."

"Gin, you would never be in my way," Harry began earnestly, "And Teddy adores you. He thinks you are the best thing ever, and I think he'd get a kick out of spending time with both of us. Don't you?"

She nodded, relaxing a little under his hopeful smile. "It does sound like a lot of fun. Maybe we could take him to a Muggle zoo or something like that."

"That would be brilliant," Harry agreed enthusiastically. "He would have so much fun with that. We could stop for lunch, too."

Ginny smiled, delighted by his pleasure in the plans they were making. "You'll have to bring your camera so that we could take lots of pictures of him. Oh, and maybe the gift shop at the zoo will have books that I can buy him. That's sort of our thing – I bring him books, and then we read them together."

Harry nodded, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair off her cheek. "I know. He talks about you whenever I suggest read. You've made quite an impression on him, Gin."

"Well, that's very mutual as he's made just as much of one on me," she demurred, leaning slightly into his touch. She wanted to purr with contentment when his fingers trailed along her cheek. "At first I was just visiting out of loyalty and friendship to Remus and mostly Tonks, but now it's because he's so wonderful."

"I know what you mean," Harry agreed, watching her carefully, for what she did not know. "Do you want to see some things that I found in my family vault?" The question was sudden, but he kept one finger tracing over her cheekbone. "It's just a bunch of old family things, so it isn't anything important – "

"I'd love to," she interrupted, knowing that if he asked it must be important to him. "Please show me; I'd be honored."

He nodded, dropping his fingers from her face. "If you want to wait in the living room, I'll go get the box," he told her. To her surprise, he took her hand and walked her to the living room before disappearing to find the box.

She waited patiently, sitting comfortably on the couch with her legs folded under her. He came back into the room a few moments later, a large box levitating in front of him. In his free hand he held their topped off wine glasses.

"When did you find these things?" she asked, smiling as she accepted her glass of dark red wine.

"A few months ago. I probably should have gone through the family vault as soon as I realized I had one, but it was just…hard for me to bring myself to do it," he sighed, settling on the couch next to her before moving to lift the lid off the box. "It was just a very easy thing to put off."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Harry," she said quietly, reaching out to set her hand on top of his. "You did it in your own time, and that's perfectly fine. Besides, I know how busy Ron and Hermione are these days, so it was probably hard to get them together to go through the box with you when you were done."

He glanced up at her, looking adorably confused. "Ron and Hermione haven't seen anything in this box, Gin. You're – you are the only person I've even discussed having a family vault. Why would you assume that I'd shown Ron and Hermione?"

Ginny blinked in surprised, feeling slightly chastised. "I – well, to be honest, Harry, there has never been much that you didn't share with Ron and Hermione first. I'm not saying that's a bad thing because it isn't and I would never presume to think such a thing, but I guess it's just a little surprising to me. I – I apologize." He wrenched his gaze away from her, and she could tell by the way he stiffened up that her words hit something sensitive. She sighed, moving closer. "Harry, I am sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Aw, bloody hell, Gin, you didn't upset me. It's just – was it really that bad? Am I really that, I don't know, exclusionary towards everyone but them?"

She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to answer that. A part of her – a large part, actually – wanted to blurt out that yes, that's exactly how it is. But another part of her could not bear to hurt him, and somehow she knew that would. "They're your best friends, Harry; the people you are closest, too. It's only natural and to be expected that they would have first dibs on all the important things in your life. I suppose everyone understands that by now."

He looked at her aghast, and she knew that she somehow managed to say the wrong thing which is the last thing she wanted. "It – it isn't like that as much now," he fumbled out, looking as though he couldn't figure out how this all went so wrong. "When I was younger, yeah, I really relied on those two to the point where no one else was really included. They were the first friends I could trust, you know? And that stuck with me, and I – I never meant to hurt anyone because of it. Oh, Gin, I never, ever meant to hurt you especially."

"I know," she agreed immediately, her eyes watering as she tried to laugh it. "I know that. And I've always understood. Really, Harry. I could never begrudge you your relationships with them, and to be honest, you deserve them. You deserve to have friends like them, and they deserve a friend like you."

He didn't know what to say, and she knew that. Oh, how terrible she felt for putting him on the spot like this, about _this_. Honestly, who was she to call out his greatest and frequently only source of comfort? When he didn't say anything, she pressed on nervously, "Harry, I know that they're your best friends, your confidantes, your comfort. Of _course_ you tell them everything. That's perfectly natural."

"They aren't, though," he countered, sounding surprised. "They aren't – I mean, they are my best friends, yes, but they aren't my comfort. They aren't my only or best source of comfort, Gin. I – that's been you."

"Me?" she squeaked, undeniably shocked.

He laughed at the reaction, relaxing a small bit. "Yes, you. You know how you said you trusted me earlier? Well, I trust you, too. You are the only one who knows what I need better than I know. Hell, Gin, neither Ron nor Hermione could help me my fifth year, but you did. A lot. Probably more than I even know." He paused, looking her directly in the eye as he fumbled for the right words. "You are so many things to me that they could never be, and I've probably never told you how much that means to me. So, thank you – it means a lot more than I could ever say."

Ginny stood up at that, moving close and wrapping her arms around his back. She buried her face in his chest and reveled in being close to him as he reciprocated the embrace by holding her tight. She felt so safe in his arms, and even though it was stupid and childish, she wished he would never let her go. Reluctantly she broke their embrace, slowly pulling away from him and moving back to the couch. He sat down next to her and she, unable to help herself, scooted closer.

"Show me what you found, Harry," she softly encouraged him, her eyes fluttering closed when he brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

He nodded, leaning forward to pick the box up. He sat facing forward on the couch, and she sat with her knees drawn up facing him. As interested as she was in the contents of the box, she was really so much more interested in watching him as he told her about the treasures he had discovered in his family vault.

As he lifted the lid off the box, he glanced her way with a tentative, shy smile. He looked back into the box and pulled the first item out. It was an older photo album, bound in chocolate brown leather embossed with gold lettering titling the album 'The Potters' in fancy script.

"My grandparents are in here," he smiled, gazing down at the album as he slowly opened. "There are a ton of pictures of them, and even more of my father."

"Oh, that's so wonderful," Ginny beamed, as happy for him to have this as she had ever been to have something for herself. "They're such a handsome couple. I can see where you and your father get your good looks from."

Harry nodded, his eyes focused on the pages of the album. "Yeah, maybe that's a Potter male trait, huh? We all look like duplicates."

Ginny laughed with him, squeezing his arm as he turned the page. "Your grandmother was beautiful. She must have been very popular with the boys in school."

"Just like someone else I know," Harry teased, shooting a sly glance her way. She blushed, but ignored the gentle teasing as he turned another page to show his grandparents in their wedding robes, waving to the camera. She exclaimed over the pictures and took care to explain all the various wizarding customs he was seeing and spice them up with anecdotes that she knew he'd find amusing. "I can't believe they left the reception on a broom!"

"I absolutely believe it considering I can picture you doing the same thing," she smiled knowingly, laughing when his cheeks flushed tellingly.

"Like you're one to talk, youngest league all-star in a decade player," he shot right back. She just grinned unapologetically at him. "You might do the same thing, yeah?"

She just shrugged, the smile never leaving her face. "I guess someone would have to ask me to marry him before I can give you a definite answer on that, hmm?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye before nodding. "The next pictures have my dad as a baby. I didn't know I'd ever get the opportunity to see something like that when I was growing up."

Ginny nodded her understanding. "Someone should have given these things to you a lot sooner, Harry. It really makes me angry that no one did."

"Yeah," he shrugged, "It would have been nice to have them, to know that I'd had a real family, a loving family once upon a time. But maybe things worked out how they were supposed to, right? Maybe not getting what I wanted until now lets me appreciate it that much more."

"That's a nice way of looking at it," she admitted with a small smile. "You are a surprisingly well-adjusted man, Harry Potter."

He laughed at that, resting his right arm on her drawn up knees. "How could I be anything but?" he asked rhetorically. "You would've handed me my arse on a platter if I got too mopey. Couldn't have that, now could we?"

"At least you recognize my abilities," she said primly before dissolving into laughter. "Turn the page, I want to see more pictures of your father."

"Bossy," he chided, ruining the effect by being unable to stop smiling at her. He also gave in right away, flipping the page. "Thanks for looking at these with me. I hope you know how much I mean it when I say that you are the only one I'd even consider sharing these with. I mean that, Gin."

"Thank you," she murmured, reaching up to twist her hair back away from her face. Almost absently, his hand dropped off her knee to caress her thigh. She sighed quietly, marveling at the ever-increasing level of physical comfort between them. She was pretty sure it ranked high on a list of best things ever.

They looked through the rest of the album that featured not only moving shots of James at every age and engaged in nearly every activity imaginable, but also included shots of the young man with his friends at Hogwarts. Ginny laughed particularly hard at a few shots of Sirius hamming it up for the camera. Harry thought she might pass out from her laughter when they came across the one where Sirius walked into a door because he was too busy mugging.

When they finished with that album, Harry set it down and pulled a smaller, wooden box out of the larger box. "There isn't an album of just my parents or of them with me, but there is this box of loose pictures. I – these are the ones I really love."

He handed the box to her, and she lifted the lid off at his encouraging nod. Almost reverently, she gently lifted the photographs out. Harry smiled at her carefully deliberate actions as he waited patiently for her to get to the photos. As she looked through them, tears formed in her eyes at the sight of the happy, young couple who barely even got to start their lives together before everything was taken away. When she got to the pictures of his parents cuddling a tiny Harry in their arms, a few tears spilled over.

They looked at the pictures in unbroken silence, and when she flipped to the last one, Ginny placed them back in the box and closed the lid. She brushed away her tears before turning her gaze on him. Harry smiled at her warmly, grabbing her hand and lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss to her fingers.

She didn't think after that; she just leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to his, kissing him with all the love and adoration and need she had for him. Harry responded immediately, grasping her hips in his hands and dragging her onto his lap. He kissed her back just as fiercely as she kissed him, and when she lay back on the couch and tried to pull him with her, he went quite willingly.

"Ginny – Gin, if we don't stop now, I don't know if I'll be able to," he gasped out breathlessly after several heated moments had passed. She had divested him of all clothing save his boxer shorts, and he had removed everything except her bra and panties.

"Oh, please, don't stop. Don't stop, Harry," she moaned out as she tightened her legs around his waist. "Please, Harry, I want to feel you. I _need_ you."

He had been lost in her well before that, but hearing her express the same longing and need that he felt sealed the deal for him. He stood up, ignoring her keening cry at the loss of contact. "Not here, Gin," he explained as he pulled her to her feet. "My bed, I want you in my bed."

"Yes," she breathed out as she pulled him down and fused her mouth to his. His hands were all over her, but she still felt as though she would never get enough of him. "I just want to feel you, Harry. Around me and on me and in me; and I want to do the same for you."

"God, Gin," he ground out, his beautiful eyes focused solely on her face. "You are so beautiful, so amazing. I need you, I need to be with you."

He lifted her against him as he guided them towards the stairs. She ran her hands through his hair, playing with the slightly too long ends. Harry paused at the top of the stairs and set her down on her feet. She wasn't sure why he was stopping, but when she tried to protest he placed a finger over her lips. "You're sure, Gin?" he asked again. "I need to know that you really want this, that you truly want this."

She took a step backwards toward the bedroom, reaching back to unclasp her bra. "Harry. I really, _truly_ want this. I want you."

Harry swallowed hard as she dropped the bra to the floor, but did not hesitate in following her into his bedroom. Neither of them paused again to question their decision in this. Neither bothered again to consider the potential consequences, either.


	6. Harry's Blessing

**Part Six – **_**Harry's Gift**_

Harry awoke slowly, rolling over as his arm searched for…something. Blinking sleepily, his eyes popped open when he felt the sheet being tugged out from under his rear. He sat upright, panic setting in when he spotted Ginny at the foot of the bed wrapping his sheet around her bare body.

"Good morning," she whispered, smiling nervously. He really did not like the scared bunny look on her face one single bit. "I have practice in half an hour. That's just enough time to apparate home to grab my things before I need to be at the training pitch."

"You have to go?" he rasped out, his mouth feeling rather like sandpaper. "Stay, Gin, and let me make you breakfast. Something simple, or at least a hangover potion."

Her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip started to tremble, much to his dismay and confusion. "You – hangover? Oh, no. No, I really have to go. Gwenog will see me benched for the start of the next match if I'm not there on time. I'll see you…later, Harry."

"Wait, Gin!" he pleaded, climbing out of the bed. At her blush, he grabbed a towel from the back of a chair to wrap around his waist. "Gin, I think we ought to talk."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed, glancing toward the bed with an almost wistful expression. "But I really can't right now."

"Right, practice," he sighed in frustration. "Of course, you should go." He peered closely at her, and although he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, he did not. "Is everything okay, Gin? Are…are we okay?"

She blinked at him, her eyes again filling with tears. "Yes, everything's fine. Alright, I really should go. I – I'll see myself out, Harry. Um…" She glanced around the room, painfully biting her lower lip, as she struggled for something to say. "I guess I will see you later. Probably dinner on Sunday."

Before he could even protest that he would most definitely be seeing her before then, she dashed out of the room and down the stairs. A few moments later, he could hear the distinctive pop of apparation. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Harry Potter tried to figure out what had gone wrong the morning after the very best night of his life.

"Bloody damned hell," he muttered, rubbing harshly at his eyes with the heels of his palm. What had he done to upset her so badly? He'd asked, more than a few times, if she was sure, and she had been most emphatic in her agreement. He knew it had hurt her the first time, but she had assured him that she was fine each time after that. God, had he _hurt_ her and was too big of a prat to actually realize it? He kicked angrily at the door, barely noticing the throbbing pain that resulted in his foot.

He stepped into his bathroom to rummage through the medicine. Fantastic, he didn't even have a single hangover potion on hand. Just bloody superb. Not only had he apparently made a royal mess of things with Ginny, but he was going to have to suffer through this bloody headache, too. Or worse, he'd have to suffer the indignity of going to Ron or George for on which would only lead to a most miserable question and answer session. He was just not up to that today, and luckily he didn't feel quite bad enough to suffer through the indignity.

He ought to get moving and go into to work, but there was no way he wanted to do that. No, today was not a day where spending time around the people at work would be good idea. But there was also no way he was going to be able to handle sitting around his house, not now that it seemed so filled with her presence and spirit. Everywhere he looked around this room alone he could see her. To make it worse, he could definitely still smell her on his sheets, and wow, did he ever need to get out of this house.

He quickly dressed and as soon as he located his wand, he turned and disapparated on the spot. He sucked in a deep breath of fresh air as he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. Harry was standing outside the gates of the small cemetery in Godric's Hollow where his parents were buried. He visited sporadically and never when he was feeling like this, at his worse, but today he just wanted to feel close to them.

Maybe it was because he'd just looked through their pictures last night or maybe it was because he felt for Ginny the way his parents felt for each other. Whatever it was, he just knew this was where he needed to be right now.

He made his way slowly through the stones and markers, barely noticing the bright sunlight that was filtering through the trees. He shook his head as he realized he should have brought flowers or something. Leave it to him to be so focused on himself that he couldn't even be bothered with the normal customs.

Harry sank down to his knees between the two small markers that identified his parents' final resting place. "Hi Dad, Mum," he said softly, his voice breaking as he addressed them. "I really wish you were here right now. I mean, that is something that I've always wished, but maybe now more than ever. I guess that really says a lot, right, considering the prophecy and Voldemort, but I guess that Ginny really is _that_ important to me.

"And I messed up with her. This certainly isn't the first time that I've done that, but I'm afraid that this is the worst yet." He huffed out an angry breath, hot tears stinging his eyes. "It's really not fair that you aren't here; I could really use some advice and I have no one else to ask it of now. Sorry, that's not fair; I know that you would both be here with me if you could, and I know that I'm only still here because of your sacrifices. I just miss you which is stupid because how can you miss what you never had? But I do, and I especially miss you right now."

He paused, pulling his wand out and cleaning the area around the markers. "I love Ginny. I love her with everything I am, everything that I have, and she makes me so happy. And you would both love her, too; everyone does. She is smart and funny and beautiful and caring and I think she could love me, too. Maybe that's just a wish on my part, but I was really beginning to believe it. She – she stayed with me last night, and it was special and right and good. But then this morning, she was upset and panicky and couldn't get out of my house fast enough. What did I do wrong?

"Maybe I pressured her too much. Maybe she didn't want to be with me at all. She kissed me first, but maybe that was all she wanted. Merlin, if I hurt her, I would never forgive myself. See, Dad? I wish you were here for this. I bet you would have some advice since it took you so long to get Mum. Maybe you could at least convince me that I haven't lost her forever. I don't think I could live with that," he admitted, an ironic chuckle escaping his lips. "Can you believe that? After everything, losing Ginny would be the thing that broke me."

Harry sighed, leaning forward and tracing his fingers over his mother's name where it was engraved into the stone. "I want to marry her and make babies with her and grow old with her by my side, and if I blew it by pressuring her too much – I don't know what I'd do. Hell, I don't know what to do now. She's probably going to avoid me, and…well, I guess I mentioned how I feel about that."

He stood up suddenly, a grin on his face. "You know what? It doesn't matter, does it? I'm not giving her up, not when I haven't even told her how much I love her. If I could let Voldemort kill me so that I could destroy him, I can certainly tell Ginny what she means to me. I just have to prove to her that we are good together. I have to figure out what I did wrong and fix it. And – and I can do that. I can make her see that I love her and show her that she's my family, my heart.

"Thanks. For listening, I mean. I suppose that you don't really have a choice, but still. I showed Gin the pictures I found in the family vault last night, but I didn't get to show her the rest of the stuff in there. I think she was glad to see what we got through, though. I hope she knew that there is no one else I could have or even wanted to share them with. That's part of the problem, isn't it? All this time, I've made her feel like she was less important to me than Ron and Hermione, and now I have to prove otherwise. But I can do that; I don't know how, but I'll figure it out. You guys don't have to worry about me. Not anymore."

He paused, scuffing his shoe through the grass. "I'm sorry I don't visit more often. I know that I should, and I don't even have an excuse for not. I'll do better now though, and one of these days, I'm going to bring Gin with me. But until then, I'd better go. There is someone else I can talk to about this, and I think he can help me a lot. Not like you two would have, but he can still help, I hope." He smiled wryly as he used his wand to transfigure several small rocks into white lilies. "Should've done that when I first got here. Sometimes it is still hard to believe I'm a wizard. Alright, I had best go. I – I love you both very much."

With that, he set the flowers down before taking a step back before turning and disapparating to the designated area of the Ministry. Rather than take the lift to the Magical Law Enforcement offices on the fifth floor, he pressed the button for the eighth. Once the lift stopped, he walked to the back corner of the building, stopping at the desk of the secretary of the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department. Senior Head, that was.

"Hello," he said as pleasantly as he could manage. "Harry Potter to see Mr. Weasley. I don't have an appointment, but I'm hoping he has – "

"And you never need an appointment," Arthur interrupted jovially as he came out of his office. "None of my children ever needs an appointment, and neither do those who are as good as. Now, come in, come in."

Swallowing the emotional lump in his throat, Harry followed him into his office, stopping to shut the door securely before sitting down in front of Arthur's desk. "Thank you for seeing me, sir," Harry smiled, trying to relax. It certainly wasn't every day that he did something like this. "I need to talk to you about something that is rather important to me, so I really do appreciate it, Mr. Weasley."

Arthur smiled widely at him in response. "Harry, as I said, this door is always open to my children, and Molly and I both certainly do consider you to be a part of that pack. Now, please, do start calling me Arthur. There is no need for formality between us."

"Erm, alright," Harry agreed, nervousness settling in. "I went to see my parents this morning. Their graves, I mean. While I was talking to them, I realized that I needed to speak to you as well. See, Mr. – I mean, Arthur – this is about Ginny."

"Ginny?" Arthur echoed, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Is everything okay with my one and only daughter, Harry?"

Harry flushed a bright red at the reminder, not picking up on the teasing lilt in Arthur's voice. "She – as far as I know, she is just fine. She's at practice now, but she said she was fine when she left my place."

"Left your place?" Arthur repeated, his tone as mild as ever.

"Yes, Arth – erm, Mr. Weasley, I'm love with your daughter," Harry said in rush, "And that's a shock, I know, but it isn't sudden and I am very sure of my feelings. Now I want her to be sure of them, too. I – I'm pursuing a relationship with her, and I – I'm having a hard time of it."

"Please continue to call me Arthur, Harry," he encouraged with a grin. "May I say that it is about time? Molly and I have been wondering how long it would take you two to figure things out. She is going to be just as pleased as I am."

Harry blinked in surprise. "You – you're pleased?"

Arthur laughed, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course we are! Harry, while it may not have been obvious to anyone else, Molly and I could both tell that you are enamored of Ginny, and that she – well, we knew. It is quite a delight that you two have worked things out. Oh, are you here to ask permission to marry her?"

Harry started at the question. "Well, yes of course – no! I mean, no, I can't ask that yet. She doesn't even know that I love her."

"I see," Arthur nodded, obviously fighting another smile. "Were you asking permission to tell her that? Because I'm not sure my daughter would believe there was a need for that. In fact, I daresay she would probably not appreciate it."

Harry groaned, shaking his head. "I'm not asking permission, sir. I love your daughter very much, and she is the only I would take a 'no' from. No, I'm just here to talk. I imagine you probably don't want to discuss my, erm, personal feelings for your daughter, but I don't have anyone else, and…you are the only person I could imagine talking to about this."

Arthur leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. "Harry, you can talk to me about anything. There is no reason to go into great detail, as that will help make it a little easier on both of us, but if I can help you, I would be very glad to do so indeed."

"I wish I didn't have to bother you with this, but I need to talk about it, I think. I – I don't have a father, but you've felt like I what I'd imagine having one would feel like for a long time now," Harry rambled on. "I'm not good at this kind of thing, and dating Ginny my sixth year is my only real relationship of any significance. I'm just afraid I'll mess this up."

"Can I offer some advice, Harry?" The young man nodded eagerly. "The best thing that you and Ginny can do for yourselves is talk to one another, openly and honestly. That's a very hard thing to do before – or even as – you establish a relationship, but it is also the most important thing you can do."

"We do talk a lot. Just last night, I showed her things of my parents that I had never shown anyone. I _know_ that she's the one I want to share my life with."

"I don't doubt that, Harry," Arthur smiled kindly. "What I'm trying to say is a little different. It's wonderful that there are things you want to share only with her, but I mean that you need to discuss your feelings for one another and expectations for your relationship. You have to be open and honest. It isn't easy; I wouldn't lie to you and say that it is. But I believe that you can do it; together you and Ginevra can do it."

"I can't tell you how much it means to me that you believe that," Harry told Arthur with all the sincerity in his heart. "I was prepared to go on without anyone's blessing, but it makes it easier that you, Ron, and George are all okay with me pursuing Ginny." He smiled ruefully. "Now I just have to convince Ginny that I didn't mean whatever it was I did to upset her and that we belong together."

Arthur grinned. "Harry, I'd like to say that that should be easy as pie considering you beat Voldemort, but knowing my daughter, you just might have your work cut out for you."

Thinking on it for a moment, Harry nodded and then his face broke out into a huge grin. "Yeah, but it'll be worth it."

"That it will, son; that it will."

~*~

Ginny Weasley was not in a pleasant mood. It was a remnant from her horrible morning Friday, and it had carried over into what should be a perfectly good Saturday, too. And that only made her that much more irritated. It was not a good look on her.

She wanted to let things go, to stop agonizing over them, but she was finding that difficult to do. Harry had been _drunk_ when they'd made love, so drunk that he had spoke of needing a hangover potion when they woke up. She was just convinced that he had been so drunk that he probably hadn't been aware of what they were doing, even though he hadn't really seemed drunk at the time.

"Bugger it," she muttered, throwing her covers back and climbing out of bed. It was early, not yet eight, but she found she did not really care. What was the point of staying in bed when she could be miserable just as well upright?

She stumbled her way into the kitchen, swishing her wand to turn the lights on. She just wanted a glass of water; maybe if she got that, she'd be able to sleep. Then again, the second she closed her eyes she would just see _him_. That wouldn't do any good, so why bother? Once she had her glass filled, she moved out to the living room, curling up in one corner of her sofa.

Glancing down at the shirt she'd pulled on before collapsing into bed last night, she sighed. So what if she was wearing his t-shirt? It's not like anyone else would ever see it and realize how pathetic she was. It was just her and…her. No one else was around to even care. Not even a bloody pet.

How miserable. She was miserable, her life was miserable, and her stupid inability to shake her lifelong love for Harry James Potter was miserable. That boy probably did not even have a clue as to how much she fancied him. Then again, it would probably only be worse if he did. Did she really need his pitying looks or to see the guilty expression in his eyes? Those would be there, and they'd only make things far, far worse.

Things had seemed to be going so well, too. That was the part that hurt the worst; they'd been going well and she'd let herself begin to hope and dream and…plan. And naturally, it all fell apart, and it turns out that she had to get him drunk to get him in bed. Did he even remember anything from their night together? It probably wasn't even legal to sleep with someone who was inebriated.

She wanted to floo-call Hermione, but she was too humiliated even for that. Her mother was out as a sounding board; even though Molly would probably be supportive, Ginny did not want to deal with the disappointment her mother would in her failure to work things out with Harry. She couldn't really talk to her brothers as they loved Harry as though he was one of them, and she refused to ruin that for anyone. There wasn't anyone else that she could trust with Harry's privacy, so she'd have to settle for keeping it to herself.

Ultimately though, the only person that she really wanted to talk to about anything was Harry. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours and she was already missing him and his company. She supposed that wasn't surprising; she had spent half her life missing him in some way as she survived in various states of longing for him. And now she was clearly destined to spend the rest of her life in that same way.

Logically she knew that it was stupid to be so pessimistic, particularly since she knew he had feelings for her, but this was an emotional problem, not a logic puzzle. Rationality was probably not going to be much of a factor in this. Besides, she was still way too engaged in self-pity to have the ability to put a sunshine spin on things.

She sighed, lifting her wand and using it shut the curtains tighter. The darkness definitely suited her mood and was even comforting in a vague sort of way. She dragged a throw blanket over her legs and curled into a ball. Maybe she could stay here forever without being bothered. Before she could even mentally chide herself for that silly thought, the door to her flat swung open, admitting the reason for her agony, Harry James Potter.

Harry did not spot her immediately; no, that would have been awfully hard to do around the sacks of groceries he was carrying. She hadn't forgotten about the bet and her breakfasts in bed, but she hadn't given them any thought either. She certainly had not been expecting him to show up here, food in hand, to make her breakfast. Not after what happened; not after she took advantage of him like that.

He took the groceries into the kitchen, wincing when an apple fell out of one of the sacks and bounced off the table onto the floor. It barely made a sound, but Harry still froze, peeking down the hall towards her room. When he was satisfied that he hadn't awakened her, he turned back to his task in the kitchen. She was content to have a few moments to just watch him work before she absolved him of his responsibilities set forth by their bet. There was no reason for her to expect him to show up on Saturdays to feed her, and he certainly should not feel obligated.

"Harry," she called softly from her safe spot in the corner of the sofa. "You don't have to do that, you know."

He started at the sound of her voice, hastily turning to face her. "Give a bloke some warning next time," he grinned, ignoring her offer of escape. "You could cough or something. Or let me know you're out here right when I walk in."

Ginny hugged her knees tighter to her chest. "I mean it, Harry. You shouldn't feel obligated to finish out the bet, not after what I did."

That brought him up short, and he stopped his ministrations in the kitchen. Harry walked the short distance to her sofa, sitting on the edge of the table in front of her. "What on earth are you on about, Gin? What did you do?"

"Y – you're going to make me spell it out?" she asked, blanching at the thought. "Harry, I – you were drunk, and I took advantage of that and I'm so sorry. I know that you're probably very angry with me, and I understand that, but maybe – "

"Gin – Ginevra, _stop_!" Harry exclaimed, a grin on his face. "You think that I'm angry with you? Are you kidding me? Oh, Gin, I've been in agony thinking that I hurt you or forced you into something you didn't want…I didn't do either of those things, did I?"

Ginny arm's relaxed their tight grip around her knees, falling down to her sides. "I – no, you didn't," she said softly, staring intently at him, trying to confirm the veracity of his assertions. "You were drunk, Harry. And I – I pushed you, and I'm sorry if – "

"No! Don't be sorry. If you don't regret it, then I'm not sorry. Hell, Gin, that was – well, that was the best night of my life, and I don't want to take it back. I really don't want you to want to take it back, either."

"You don't want to take it back?" she asked, her eyes meeting his. "Harry, you don't have to say that; you don't owe me anything."

"Well, I guess we will have to disagree on that," he said softly. "Someday, I'll explain all the things that I owe you for, Gin."

She eyed him skeptically, but just ended up shrugging. "It doesn't really matter, does it?"

Harry looked her in the eye, not shying away. "It matters to me. A lot. I don't ever want you to think that I don't recognize and appreciate each and every amazing thing you have done for me. Because I do, and I'm rubbish at saying thanks – I think we all know that, but you have to know what you mean to me. You – everything means so much to me."

Ginny sighed, trying to quell the little thrill she felt at his words. "You know that you never have to thank me for anything, much less things that I don't even know what you are talking about," she stated lightly, trying to inject a smidgen of humor into the conversation.

Harry grinned sheepishly as he ran a hand through his untidy hair. "You make me laugh, Gin. There have been times – loads of them, really – where you were the only one who could even make me smile. Even when I was a horrible moody git my fifth year, you helped me. You helped me and I didn't deserve it, but you did it anyway. I can share things with you, open up to you, because I trust you."

"You don't have to say those things or – or feel obligated just because we slept together, Harry," she sighed miserably, giving voice to her worst fear. She looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes.

"Gin, look at me. Ginevra," he said sharply when she didn't immediately comply. She looked up slowly, cringing at the confused frown that marred his forehead. "Is that really what you think of me? That I only care about you because we m-made love?"

It cost him something to ask her that, she could tell, and she knew that he wouldn't use that terminology lightly. "No, of course not," she exclaimed immediately. "I know you better than that. I'm sorry I acted otherwise."

He shook his head, giving her a shy smile that she found completely endearing. "You don't have to apologize. I suppose we should have talked things over before we, erm, made love rather than after, yeah?"

Ginny had to smile at that. "Well, it certainly wouldn't have hurt," she agreed, shifting nervously.

"Do you think that we'd still have gone through with it?" Harry managed to stammer out. "It's just that, erm, that is to say that I would've wanted to go through with it, even if we stopped to talk."

She cursed herself as she felt her ears and cheeks get hot. "Me, too," she agreed, wishing she had her usual boldness. That would certainly come in handy for this conversation. "It wasn't a question of want on my part, Harry."

Harry looked at her with bright eyes, his hands fumbling nervously as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "I don't regret it at all," he said, almost defiantly. "As long as you wanted it, too, then I don't regret it at all. I was…well, we didn't talk much about it, but it was probably obvious anyway." She looked at him blankly, unsure where he was going. "It was my first time, too. I should have mentioned it, but you were…well I couldn't keep a thought in my head."

"Thank you for telling me," she said, giving him a soft smile. His admission that she drove him to distraction was a welcome balm to her wounded pride.

"I was afraid I'd done something wrong," he admitted, flushing all the way down to the neckline of his shirt. "I thought maybe I had hurt you or it was horrible. Was it? Did I?"

Ginny bit her lip, smiling sheepishly at that. "I'm sorry I gave you that impression, Harry. It wasn't like that at all." She glanced down at her hands. "It was good, actually. Very good. Erm, after the first time, I mean. So just don't think for a second that it was anything less than wonderful."

"So we agree then that it was wonderful?" he asked cheekily as he tried and failed to appear nonchalant. "Because I think it was wonderful and brilliant. And you don't know how relieved I am that I didn't hurt you. I – I don't know what I would have done, Gin."

"Well, you didn't," she tried to assure him, her face again flushing brightly. "And it was _brilliant_. You shouldn't feel guilty about it. Obviously neither of us should."

"You're right. You are absolutely right, Miss Weasley." He grinned, standing up. "Let me go put breakfast together. It will only take a minute since I made everything at home. And yes, I did remember the warming charm on the food."

Ginny smiled at that, drawing her knees to her chest as she watched him walk across her small living area into her equally small kitchen. It was a little surreal to her, sharing these small moments of domesticity with Harry. She relished them though, perhaps out of the fear that it was all fleeting. She'd been here before with Harry, in the place where everything seemed fine and that Harry seemed interested. It was blown to Hell before, and the fear that it would be again gripped her heart.

She didn't want to feel that way, and she knew that thinking his interest was only temporary was a disservice to them both. As much as she knew that, it was still hard to set the fear aside. As much as she loved him, she was still afraid to give herself over to him completely. She was his, without a doubt, but a part of her was still rather terrified of letting _him_ know that.

But despite the fear, she could not let go of her hope. It had lain dormant for a long time, but it was back and she didn't think it was going anywhere any time soon. It would be so much easier if the hope would go away again, but no one ever said that the easy things were the ones that were truly worth it, truly appreciated. And she would, she knew, be able to truly appreciate it if she and Harry could make a go of it now. She already cherished and appreciated and loved him, and she could only imagine how amplified those feelings would be if their relationship became deeper.

She had a choice at this point. She could let go of all of that hope and give up on Harry forever, or she could continue to pursue a relationship with him. In her heart there was no question that she wanted Harry, and as she watched him move about her kitchen as thought he lived there, she resolved to go after him. Even if it came down to her standing in front of him and point blank declaring her love for him, she would do this.

Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and quietly called his name. When he glanced up at her with a questioning look, she smiled widely at him. "I just wanted to say that I-I've really enjoyed spending time with you lately, arry. I hadn't even realized how much I have missed you until being with you again reminded me." He was staring at her intently, a faint smile playing about the corners of his mouth. "I want this to continue, Harry. Not only have I had a brilliant time, but I feel as though we have grown closer recently, and I do not want to lose that."

Harry set down the plates he was holding and looked at her closely. "You won't," he said, he voice low and husky with promise as he regarded her solemnly. "Trust me, Gin. I like this, too. I love spending time with you, and us becoming closer means a lot to me, too. More than you can know. I wouldn't change any of the time we have spent together lately, and I want to continue spending plenty of time with you going forward, as well. I've enjoyed every second we've had together."

Unable to help herself, she winked lasciviously at him. "Some seconds more than others, right?" She laughed when he threw a croissant her way, reaching out to catch it easily. "Thank you."

"Maybe you should go play seeker for Oliver. You obviously have a knack for it," Harry grinned, looking more at ease, just as she was feeling. "I'm serious, Gin. You'd be amazing, and would likely have Puddlemere winning championships in no time!"

"I think that I'm happy where I am," she smiled, clapping with delight as he levitated a tray towards her. "Oh, it looks amazing. And the peonies, those are my favorite flowers. Did you know?"

He smiled widely at her, looking surprisingly proud of himself. "I can be very observant when I want to be," he noted, winking as he settled the tray atop the small coffee table in front of her. "There are some things I think it is important to know, such as the favorite flowers of the ladies in your life."

She had to fight back a giggle at that. "I see. Well, they are really lovely. Erm, what are Hermione's favorites, by the way?" she asked, unable to resist teasing him. She was quite sure he had no idea that their friend preferred Gerbera daisies above all other flowers.

Harry frowned at the question, sighing heavily as he sank down beside her on the couch. "Honestly, that's Ron's problem. No matter how badly I hack her off, Ron will always do something worse and therefore needs to be the one buying her flowers."

"I see," she nodded solemnly, fighting hard to hide her smile. "So, who else's favorite doe you know? My mum's? Fleur's?"

"Just yours," he admitted quietly, leaning forward to busy himself with the tray of food. "You are the only woman's whose favorite flower I need or care to be aware of, Gin. It's just you."

There was a moment of silence between them as they both let that statement sink in. "Harry? Thank you for knowing my favorite flower. They're so beautiful, and I really appreciate them. It means a lot that you know what I like, too. Thank you."

"You're very welcome," he smiled over his shoulder as he fixed her a plate. "Here you go," he said, straightening up to hand her the plate of her favorites. "I hope you enjoy your second breakfast-in-couch, I guess."

"Yum, I'm so hungry all of a sudden," she enthused, clapping her hands together happily.

"That's a Weasley thing," Harry said knowingly, a teasing smile on his face. "Enjoy!"

She beamed at him, immediately picking up her fork and digging in. "Oh, so good!" He relaxed a little, leaning forward to fix a plate for himself. "Harry, thank you. Not just for breakfast or the flowers, but for everything. I can't even tell you how glad I am that you came here today. I would have really missed you if you hadn't."

"I missed you yesterday," he admitted quietly, his fork pushing the food around his plate, "And I missed you last night, too." She looked up at that, her gaze intently focused on his face. "I did, Gin."

"Me too," she agreed, completely meaning it. "I don't think anything has to change. I mean, they shouldn't change in a weird way, an awkward way. Oh, bloody hell. I mean that I like – _a lot _– how things have been going, and I don't want either of us to feel that has to change, that we have to pull back."

"Good, I like how things have been going, too," he grinned back at her, relaxing a little. She did the same, leaning into his side. "How's the food?"

She glanced his way, biting her lip pensively. "Actually, I don't know how to tell you this, but these aren't my favorite anymore."

"Oh, no?"

She shook her head. "No, my new favorite is strawberry French toast, served by you, in my bed."

Harry stared at her hungrily for a moment before shaking his head and smiling. "For a second there, I really thought that you didn't like these anymore. You shouldn't tease me like that; I am very sensitive, you know."

She lifted an eyebrow at that, a sly look on her face. "Oh, really? How can I make it up to you, then? I'd really hate to offend your delicate sensibilities, Mr. Potter."

He laughed at that, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure we can think of something that you can do to make it up," he murmured huskily into her ear.

"I'm sure," she agreed, blushing hotly at what they both were insinuating. They had both all but declared they wanted more, but the insinuations were still enough to make her blush. She tried to focus her attention on her plate, but she found that she was not very hungry anymore. Especially when watching Harry eat was so much more interesting. She knew that she should not be ogling the poor man while he tried to eat, but she really was having trouble looking away from his mouth. His sexy, enthusiastic, talented mouth.

To stifle the groan that tried to bubble up and escape her lips, she shoved a piece of toast in her mouth, taking a large bite. Harry, after taking a sip of his tea, smiled widely at her. "Do you, ah, have any plans today? Maybe we could spend some time together this morning?"

She smiled just as huge in return. "Well, I had planned to spend the whole day wallowing about this place in my pajamas, but I suppose that I could be persuaded not to wallow…out of my pajamas."

His eyes darkened at that in what was unmistakably lust. He took a deep breath, moving to set both of their places down on the coffee table. "_Please_ tell me that I may kiss you now."

"Oh, yes," she breathed, giving him a brilliant smile. "Please."

"Thank Merlin," he chuckled, shifting to face her. "I've been dying to kiss you ever since I woke up yesterday morning. It's just gotten to be a more intense need since."

"Then do it already," she encouraged, shifting towards him.

He nodded as he leaned in closer. "I was just savoring the moment, but…"

After that, nothing was said for a very long time.


End file.
